The limitary nature of a wall
Is partial only, to keep out dogs and insects,
Contain the furniture, exclude the rain.

But space flies through it like a mad commuter.
Rooms are thus always strange, as if you entered
Another by error in the same hotel,

And saw incredulous no known landmarks,
The bed moved, new luggage on the floor,
And a window staring at you from the wrong corner.

And desire goes through a wall as wild geese
Pass and cry over reedy waters. Memory
Knows no walls. They are elementary limits.

Only a fool would cut the sea with a knife,
Or say to a wind: Exceed this line at your peril.