I walked gingerly across my familiar aloneness.
I hid in the cover of quiet space they represent
as wholeness for only a few. But how big would
it be for me just one time. What to do with
such a vast space.
My utterance was a range only as vast as my
sadness would allow. I hastened to be as
quiet as I could. I recalled someone was there.
I turned around and gazed into her face.
Again and again I saw only irony. To soothe
myself with lieterature I labelled it ivory. I
don't, my dear friend...predict. Unfortunately,
I also do not plan enough. Considering
an infinitesimal space were represented by the
sign of a larger one. So...when. Book of a
book. Terrestial, tropical. As mixed, as transient
as a seaport, full of adorable facsimilies. Even
as space has holes of or, solidifying would have
been so foolish as, would be as careless as, a
mixed taste of what is drawn in. As much as
you get anyway. Only the dead ones don't
breathe. I wanted to be quiet so I could really
hear their voices. The all precious Saturday
night, the light and delicate lingering