Wednesday, March 19, 2014

WET BLACK BOUGH

Interpret 
those—vague pretty

words 
how you will—

whenever 
he's away (which is 

always,
he's afraid).

What's 
important—if patently

impossible 
to explain

is really— 
just 
how he'd merely 

received, 
then 
redelivered them;

on a single,
particularly 
mild evening in winter—

inspired 
by what

he first read 
as self-
similar—vague pretty 

signatures 
of faces—

awash 
in such profusions

of flattering,

flattering,

flattering rain.

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