The nurse has made up the bed so crisply（清楚地，易碎地） .
Tucked the corners' rote¹ origami（折纸手工）
so soundly into the aluminum²（铝） frame.

Your lips glisten³, moistened（弄湿） with a square
of sponge（海绵） . I hold your hand—weightless
thing of parchment（羊皮纸） and twig—

no more your daughter than a seed
cast from hoof-split rattlegrass, no more than
an asterisk⁴（星号） sprung from thistle（蓟） , caught, wished upon,

let go. I inhale⁵ the antiseptic（防腐的，抗菌的） scent⁶ of bay,
of balsam（香脂，凤仙花） . Rooted here, in this cheap plastic chair,
as if I'll miss something,

as if my missing it would matter.
Just as—branch-snap to feeding deer, wing-shadow
to the scuttling⁷（船底穿孔） mouse—it has always mattered.

The window frames a square of light
white and blameless as milk. I turn from you
and drink, and drink, and drink.