He grabbed her tunneling in and around his fingers are a longitude,tracing paisley linen as the contours of africa or a part in her lips like the dead sea.This body reaches out to life like the earths collapsed edges touching time.She held out her hands while he took notes on star trails and broken glass. Bottle hits pavement like Orions Belt. They are map makers for the illicit and wedlocked virgins, for the infants drown in a river between organs and oxygen,left to suffocate or choke on broken bone. He's a maverick of geography, shes learning her name in 27 tongues."Amour Propre"