her body of smoke
to her was ash spread
upon the face of disciples:
a soft nothing
resigned and obscene
asleep in the back seat
degrading original opening as if
lost in rustle and reflection
that brought him
slowly
to the words in his eyes
a strange rise of light
a strange concern makes me hinge
all my might or love or tact
to the tactile
the wall the desperate sentence
the extraordinary price of force and gesture
I touched this iris after the party
it had a dementia, a core that opened to illusion
I uttered prayers to objects
I uttered prayers to engines and fire
I sang the psalms of pale night
we skidded on black ice
became for taut seconds
finally alive
how indifferent is the wonderful work of the world
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