I felt myself being pulled into the bleak yet richly imaginative world of the narrator. Unlike a lot of poetry collections, this one builds a complete, though non-linear, story and uses surprisingly short, compact poems containing startling, incongruous (and occasionally baffling) imagery.
he's waiting in the hall for her return -
if waiting is the word for not waiting,
for wanting her, and more than her, and
breathing very slowly, like an ear-drop.