Then we met more often. br I stood at one side of the hour, br you at the other, br like two handles of an amphora. br Only the words flew between us, br back and forth. br You could almost see their swirling, br and suddenly, br I would lower a knee, br and touch my elbow to the ground br to look at the grass, bent br by the falling of some word, br as though by the paw of a lion in flight. br The words spun between us, br back and forth, br and the more I loved you, the more br they continued, this whirl almost seen, br the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.