The night shakes its wings and the sky hasn't folded its whitewashed lawn chairs. Hyacinths in the garden gleam like pale fire, the forests are crammed with shadowy fish. I heard you say: I don’t know when I’m coming back. Once, I lost my car in a strange city while we circled the streets searching for a way home. All was dark except where we glimpsed ballroom dancers flickering like moths through a window. At dinner, we spoke to each other one or two words only. Yet here we are, alone in your car while I cast my net for something to say. Stay. Take me with you. If you go, I will see your eyes looking back in every corner. I won’t have to listen to hear you call my name. If you go, you must come back quickly. Or else clouds will sweep the rooms with rain.