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.
