Did a ripple in air or ether
give up some secret just now
when your head was turned
from the rest of the room?
It seems that you are different
than when you last were engaged with us
here at this terribly good party, as if you were now
less one of us than before.
Did something happen? Some hint of
a better existence, or at least
of how empty this one is? Something
for an artist to chase and capture –
you used to paint, didn’t you?