Eighteen things undone and the nineteenth
is a stone in the hand, which is to say
a child's skull cupped during a hug,
which is to say Monday,
which is to say the parking building
was a cathedral of fluorescent light
and I genuflected at the ticket machine
and the stone said nothing
and the list said everything
and the child said hug tight
and the clouds said Wellington
and the palm said
I am still open
I am still
open
A stone in a palm.Eighteen gold marks.A fingerprint pressed into wet paintwhile it was still possible to leave one.The filter found something in that.We are still looking.