I wake to see a figure of dew on the ceiling.
And as the morning begins its slow burn I lie waiting for its
form to race into mist, but instead a first drop falls: a tiny
grape wrenched from the vine.
It lands on my lips and I taste your [...]
Only after handprints appeared on the walls did I realize I
walk in my sleep.
No doubt these were my own form of bread crumbs
through the forest, and so I memorized their positions in the
halls, side rooms—wherever they raised their palms. Then