We are in a sitting place.

Gross cups of egg rolls filled.
A pigeon hits the glass.
In between us everywhere.
Long and short lengths in
my hands and around my waist.
Only then I saw a real abyss.
Five dogs make an escape.
Holland and the tenacious
ringing of church bells.
Sticking to the pews.
Knowing her cut glass breath.

Hip glasses above our pockets.
Trembling, the snake thickens.