Wednesday, August 15, 2012

ENOW, ENOW (A Romance)

House where gone faces
lid wide your down eyes:

Kissing inutterable resonance
that now, in long intervals, comes to rest;
the mucous membrane itself affected. 

When I open my burnt eyes all is
not for the best. The bodies clash to
collect with the crackle of sere leaves.

Remains—tapered enow for flight to seem
futile, vast enow for hunt to seam in
vain—look, preying on the lost ones they’ll tame.

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