Within

following depths as they shape across a line
of which contains dimensions to temporarily inhabit, can’t
help but stand within the archways of their mirrors, hear
me hear me

an echo shouts from nowhere for fun-house
walls shake reception to the voice made
immediately known—

this will not last forever
this, human
these
are colors in the shape of forests—
meadows and running water, Syria
Syria Syria

nothing precludes eclipse of the earth in nightmare, nothing
extinguishes countless hells of this orbital beauty, nothing
excuses the insignificant detail in the crack of skin as it is used
when typing these trees into location—

textures

of a many weave froth at the foamy lip and taste porcelain in iron-throat—
motions of slow and consequential determinacy,
oriented from riverbanks within, what
never sleeps of us all—these

places unspoken—
indeed what keeps all waters planted,
tremors in the fabric of relative quantum—
felt shaking flesh of the earth beneath—
undead wide-awake, learning
to abide within its keep—
evokes behavior
as total encapsulation,
corresponding to thread—
being activity
the world

as it is

a reflection of a shade of order,
metabolizing within its own translucent storm, each
bird-feeder breathing star-dust orchestrates
a variety of escalating mountains, heave
a sail adrift amongst a billion billion billion—and

whatever these things translate to a cup of water
there, remaining strong, an anchor
continental, inter-galactic, rooted to space, undying
at ease

watching

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