You don’t know it yet, but you are saving me, levelling me like water on the unsafe plane that our days have become, I flow slowly, listening for footfalls. You join me in a room, a grieving man listening to Duettino Sull’Aria, listening to what could be your laughter from another room. Such low tones. The arrangement of your teeth is a white symphony. A duality that saves me, not knowing if you are here or in the next room, but joined in slow laughter.