Pour wine, close the curtains

Pour wine, close the curtains,

put a record, lean on the bar,

the walls mark the edge of the

universe — ten steps to the window

is ten steps to the stars. Come now,

sit on the sofa, let the gravity do the

rest, let the vacuum steal your breathing,

let my hands undo the dress. And when

you remember the summer,

I will remember the swings,

and the entropy's somnolent

humming in oblivion's

dizzying breeze.