learning to talk over and over
I have fulfilled my purpose
but it’s not you who say so
on roads never transparent
it not necessarily being things that happen
the idea of all kinds of rescues
not halfway open
and now’s a good time
the sidewalk stained blue from fallen flowers
a cardplayer’s world
how simple it is, telling
not telling
can we ever be one or the other
unless we stop knowing something
complexities rubbed thin in fluid history
the sun leaves traces of tunes
its form is apparent and dissolvable
a solvent method
and so the possibility of the body in odd ways
packs everything into a scene
finishing opens new spaces
for the time being is getting crowded