She's sitting in the breakfast nook
reading the laptop's opened palm;
he's at his desk doing the same,
and fits the profile in her Notebook.
These two are not from ads but real,
and have not found each other because
the sky into which their queries rise
is thick with stars, and even the stars
are only a small part of the spectrum
of the noise of galaxies.
They open like the trumpets of lilies,
like Plato's halves yearning to be whole.
Between them a universe,
only a little of which is visible.
John Barr / from Dante in China
