My percept a feeling divides
Like cells divide the eye
And sunset this and clouds that
Point to which drums shoot
The air up shake their fists
In the air some meaning of
Us was in your airs drip
ping down from the present
A series of strings verbs
Spiraling down from which
Identification is not your
Eyes seeing the wind skim
Across what iteration and
Irritants nearly touch
An idea of skin our image-
Forming suffused by music
Imagine a night-light’s
Inner life imagine forgetting
The meaning of all those
Little words like a conse
quence this breath burdened
By a bow and what the voice
Can do articulation folded
The air around in the event
Of this note duree betrayed
My heart of Avenue A in
The rain pigeons seemed to
Circle the sun so this was us
Their wings creased like
Gold leaf on a knife that is
The matting of our days
A way their simultaneity was
Not entirely in synch with
Anything one of them did
Or made social by a sing
ular turn of their wings.
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