Sometimes she stops and sits on it to eat，
even sleeps there， her whole body stretched
as the wire is stretched. In sleep
she keeps her balance，
feet curled like a monkey's
the habit of grasping：
she has never fallen.
She never will， not entirely.
Once in a while a slip
causes her to hang for a moment by her hands.
It isn't the danger of falling that slices through her dreams
but the wire itself， drawing
a line through her body，
leaving a mark on the soles of her feet，
her buttocks， her back.
If she were to cut the wire （she dreams of this）
the sky would break like a mirror into the sea
and nothing would be whole again.
Virgin of the Apocalypse standing on a crescent moon，
she is keeping
Heaven and Earth apart.