spiders are sickling bugs, webbing
and
spawning, patience creates
miracles. men
and women, Erectus beings, scholars
losing something precious—unthawed
frustration, nectar rich angers, a
mind
with aggressive moths.
gray ether, blueberry bagels, more
composition.
laughs crying out, attuned to
silence,
partial to thought-cubs at play.
fathoms deep. benthic seas.
excavated
by strangers.
peppered by insecurities. adoring
wrong conceptions. many need
empathies.
I love without premise—like some
axiom
—heaving inside an elusive story.
so supernatural, at some stratosphere,
made decent enough to step away.
the pendulum is waxing richly.
buffering inconclusions. watching a
moose gnaw on leaves.
upon fine threads, upon a rosary,
so
much distance between us.
