That parts of the body be counted and fully and unremittingly checked on the appointed nights.

That the arm, the shoulder, the neck, and all sundries be addressed by their secret names without recourse to speech.

That the words of this proposition spend the night standing in the street like lampposts, as naked and stoical.

That the ankles should meet the feet and the feet proceed to toes within the period of darkness.

That the fine hair on the upper arms be allowed to lift in a draught so as to catch the dust in an empty room.

That the hand be spread and the fingers extended and discover a small white handkerchief on the table in the likeness of a dove.

That night be folded away in the dresser marked for such depositions, along with curtains, tights and gloves.

That light fall across a body in due proportion to that body’s temper that, when it seeks darkness, darkness should be provided.

That the bones of the body should talk to each other more regularly

and resolve their problems by way of civilised discourse.

That the sides of the torso should curve around both back and front of the body so as to meet as sunlight enters the window.

That the wind be brought in, wrapped in a warm blanket and allowed to tell its own story.