|In the V-angle growth, branches shoot from
In-growth, against another offshoot, rubs itself a callous-less abrasion—
looks nothing more than another’s missing parts—beauty is its few and
crossways stems. Believe.
There was no economy of choice for Judas.
This is not script, but love scenes in the knots of young wood reflected
in a gardener’s shears—
|Am I in the folding pattern
where all branches converge
if one looks long enough?
Have I looked long enough?
Have I been caught looking?)
I have loathed the middle distance—
still washing the dirt from my fingernails,
but mercury onto the skin, poison.
you to me; me, you—
mulch in quantity to make greener
(I see and I see you)—
|To be found there:
a graying slight has been
axed into the turtled wood.
There has happened no archery
that claims excuse
for the bite that stands
What else have we
She is insignificant, you know this.
Light. There is the Figure which opposes my placing it
3 / misc.
XXXI, II, or III.