Through the open door of the room across from mineI saw a woman unmaking a bed. She looked bone-wearyas she hauled in the bleached, empty net of a sheet,heaping it, rank from the depths, at her feet. Another nighthad slipped through that seine and swum on, and no onehad been there to see those naked creatures, fish-belly white,as they rose through layers of dream to lip at the dark,to effortlessly fin in and out of the netting, and thento be gone, with a last flash, away into the morning,leaving no more than their faint, briny smell in her hands.