poem with footnotes
and later the gold leaf making her neck burn
falling in flakes off the shelf
falling in flakes off the shelf
falling
falling
in a manner similar to an airplane
but like a kite, fast and loose
to pull a ribbon
as if the fingers knew how to unbutton it all
to transform the hands into paddles
into webbed cleats
and go up
again
as she did swim through it after all
as he did in that tunnel saying what it had said
between page one and cover
the map
and the hands
drier than anything
and the wing-bones had grown back
as in one of those treasure films
and everyone aware
for they had said X
they pulled something
sacred from its niche