signature.
pain tucked into paint
erodes the sacristy. is dark
impenetrable yet?
more than anything I want
the inner and the outer
matching. sentence . . .
"can you hear me
now? the hour? at what depth?"
single mind yields
(of) one mind,
yet
what
dubious
young channel
does the dark
reveal?
isolation's not an insulation,
innocence reflected in and by
formed letters joined
as barely soft.
one lingers where one lingers
all along the edifice
agreed upon as sacred
as a blessing falls
from undisclosed
location
thought
to be
a height.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment