A Precise Woman With A Short Haircut Brings Order To My Thoughts And My Dresser Drawers, Moves Feelings Around Like Furniture Into A New Arrangement. A Woman Whose Body Is Cinched At The Waist And Firmly Divided Into Upper And Lower, With Weather-Forecast Eyes Of Shatterproof Glass. Even Her Cries Of Passion Follow A Certain Order, One After The Other: Tame Dove, Then Wild Dove, Then Peacock, Wounded Peacock, Peacock, Peacock, The Wild Dove, Tame Dove, Dove Dove Thrush, Thrush, Thrush. A Precise Woman: On The Bedroom Carpet Her Shoes Always Point Away From The Bed. (My Own Shoes Point Toward It.)