At an orchard, the fruit he plucked crushed wine. At a wedding, he turned six jars of water into wine. The bride's mother said to the groom's father, Everyone brings out the choicest wine first and gives the cheap wine to the guests when they have had too much to drink, but you have kept the best until now. The man points to water to turn it to wine. The fruit turns to wine.
Tissue turns to wine.
Water turns to wine. In a room smelling of blood and wine, you were born, murmurs her mother in the mother tongue. And on my nuptial night in this new country I asked your father for wine because I could not sleep. And the bodies, as they pulled them out one by one, arm, leg, torso, stood up living bone by bone, men and women in the thousands called by name and given life. Yesterday Helen said she would make salami sandwiches for us, period capital.