By Amanda Field

Open in the sense of jimmy, rupture, lance.

Burning petroleum keeps me company.

Venus has the thickest atmosphere, the youngest surface.

Before the probe burns, it sends back several photographs of rock.

Open in the sense of frank, candid, talking turkey.

Your voice has Sunday night in it.

The barriers between people: how they temporarily disappear.

The Voyager, beyond Neptune, carries a gold disk

inscribed with a human heartbeat, Beethoven’s Cavatina.