i bury mister in pebbles. someone said something when i was pushing him in his cherriot how happy he looks and i say panting i wish he was pushing me but i'm beaming knowing he would, and happy i am able and honored to be. at first he pulled a foot out and i said sorry mister but he was so calm i continued, and he got it, and the cool wet pebbles soothed his bones. and just now i thought i need to cry now but when he has to go i want his bone dust to bring here. and i will lay down and bury myself in cool pebbles and feel him within me.

but it won't be soon, will it. it won't be soon. it must be that i feel an elegy going on, ongoing in me, for the things, all the things felt, in this elegiac world, embodied, settled in your black eyes, your tired bones, held secure in pebble beach, climbing out and swimming only swimming now afterwards forever.