The Way in Which 

The way in which the human body
is capable of cupping itself about what is
gone, the womb squeezing its own hollow,

the tongue pushing into the gap
of the broken tooth—how flesh
gathers into need, and word brims emptiness.

The way too in which every gesture
is insufficient, all words of loss
lost, each hand a broken sieve.

The way in which we finally have
to be content with open sky
where once, bright windows.