and the signals sent out from the lighthouse of the hypothalamus: of peptides and neurotransmitters that regulate and release. You repeat, pleasure—everything from the silver of paper- heart leaves to the wrought filigree surrounding a tamburin; skin-sheen after exercise or sex; the syllables mouths bubble to go with please or delicious. On craggy hillsides, even the goats nuzzle the grass they feed on: one thing is pleasure, the other is work or a wage. Of horsehair woven around bright beads, and at their ends a row of brass cast little bells. Putting a necklace back into its drawstring pouch, you stop, trying to remember what saint or scent used to lie inside its glass- walled reliquary.