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 "It's so  here," she says,
 "This moment now  this moment, now."
 And I  thought I would find her here:
 Flannel  satin, my four walls transformed.
  she's looking at me, straight to center,
  room at all for any other thought.
 
 And  know I don't want this, oh, I swear I don't want this.
 There's a  not to want this but I forgot.
 
 In the terminal she sleeps  my shoulder,
 Hair falling forward, mouth all 
 Fluorescent  beat their wings overhead:
 "Passengers  we're looking for you."
 And she dreams through the  her weight against me,
  pressed into the corduroy grooves.
 
 Maybe it means  maybe it means nothing,
 Maybe it means nothing, but  afraid to move.
 
 And the words: they're  and nothing.
 I want to search for her in  offhand remarks.
 Who are you, taking coffee,  sugar?
  are you, echoing street signs?
  are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover,
 Dark  drawn by the passage of time?
 
 Oh, words, like rain, how sweet the 
 "Well anyway," she says, "I'll see  around..."