We witness the world br rolling around the moon - br for there is no real sun br after all, only heat br to warm the pen, br watching not br the lifeguard saving br children, but the specks br of fragility teeming br in tidepools br stranded br after the surge. br br In the crumbs br of the feast, br there is food br for thought. We spy, br noses pressed steaming br to the pane, br drinking the aroma, br ravenous, br though not quite hungry br enough to stretch br a pointed finger br to the bell.