From a Box of DreamsbyTzara©
As I opened that slim volume of Cixous,
a bookmark emerged
and fluttered to the floor like a moth,
from hovering all night
around the light at the foot of the stairs.
I picked it up—a ticket for Le Métro—
and like a madeleine dipped in tea
a vision, struck
not from memory but desire,
saw the two of us holding hands
in the Tuileries
watching the toy sailboats, marking time
until we could once again
test the sturdiness of our iron bed.