to a kind of record

I.we all looked and could see nothingwhat are we supposed to seewhat are we supposed to seethe inexhaustiblethe inexhaustiblehorizontorn from our handsValéry saidI cannot repeatdon’t be so dramaticthe sun fellin timethe sun fellwe spoke of thingsone spokein the dark outsideanother answeredValéry you have to answer foryou have to answer forhimdo you have the answerhidden in a fold of skinhiddenbetween your lipshidingbehindthe everydayaround him grew the desertthe desert grewand every daytherethere you areknots in his fingershis whole rag headrag and jagBuster was not his nameBuster she saidwas not his nameshe whisperscome herewraps youwraps youin grease proof paperand she wraps youthere you arewell at dawnthere you lietied up with a stringa prayeryou cannot answer for