divided into seven titled sections
drowned in the disembodiment of light
unseasonable perhaps, irretrievable
strolling about my nights with Gods help
for fear of encountering my own reflection in the dark
in a whisper, a dash in certain paragraphs
the putting off, the festivals inside my head
stretched into spans of metaphors
lunar pity, quivering a pair of arteries
affected spirituality, stalking every sentence
every garden – reviving thirty eight warty leafs
for the stubborn circumstance
you, shaking your head from side to side
humming vocables like local saints
precipitous, this love colliding me to come forth
to type words, mud trapped beneath these slopes
to be continued
