Stone

it unravels in goes, and seconds and goes
from under your hand like halves of a home-
thinning and strange and laid out in rows.
‘you sun, and i centre’, (you yes and i no)

and when circled in air or told like a joke,
near any transgression shifts weight
to the Tome.
like things you won’t tell but that everyone knows:
they let you stay quiet, to keep you so close.