speaking into them
darkly whole, like a forth-thought, endlessly lishmo
circling down edges edging existence
and ever percolating timelessly through it
softer than a silent whisper hovering
urgently behind the essence of a quiver pivoting
stringing an ineffable impulse through a myriad myriads
with every detail down a scarlet cord intercalating
chosen histories coarse grained
into one living smell
kept eternally remembering
Sunday, September 28, 1997
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