washing unfolded & left in the dim apartment, door closed on it, bright light. on the bougainvilleas no lizard. no birds but asian mynahs, arguing, distressed. and the skinny tortoiseshell cat unruffled. down in the lift. students writing in a black room.

in and out of focus. faces in meetings. the calendar and the emails. a visitor to fill in forms, large breasts, loose black hair, acne, composure, presence. yes, she can translate from tamil, without hesitation. through the window in a door - grey curls and a smurf's face, his italian name just lightly resting on his shoulders.

I come to find you walking the damp wood between the crocodile pits. oh corkondilly, what a beautiful corkondilly, you don't need to be afraid. that's it, that's the girl, that's the way. where I have to come if I want to see you - there in your waders, walking the damp wood on the other side. I think you must be short sighted. you keep your face turned down.

and I don't love crocodiles. there's no way from here to you. I breathe loudly and I cough but you are busy with your work.   I look at the moon. I look at all these swampy trees. walk the beam.