Tower bells amplify the pellucid dome
over the stone vault,
the thread of the dress crystalises light,
empty clothes billow in white draping,
cover me with the rain of your tunic.
You lift a sign of the image into the niche
like a lantern for the zodiac in glass,
I call at the door and listen in stillness
to the river encircling a tree in the atrium,
the water rushes a sphere into our cups.
