music


	Connecticut Reach contained domesticity children the mere tricks late imaginary thumbnail tease mother where kept Cleopatra canal four daughter played don't saints once tell city detail syntactical radiation talk healing Dresden	Was one a musician he wants to know. Who can say what music is, she says. The overlay of one rhythm of another, the quotidian against the diurnal, he suggests. Doing dishes then? she asks. He laughs. No, she insists, why stop short? the diurnal stands in for the eternal once we foreshorten our horizons. But dishes? he asks despite a dim memory of cobalt and ash. Monks have found detachment in less, she suggests. Nuns as well one suspects, he says. She is hurt that he can be so obvious. He and she, says and says. She is mindful that her silence is its own music. x \| & \| <