I want your sharpness and to hear you dismiss this. I want to locate myself in terms of my proximity to you, but this has become a physical impossibility. Love grows in my memory, like happiness or greed. I rest on a cliff- make flapping motions with my arms. Landscapes roll sexless and beautiful.
Cops scurry about.
Step lightly on the earth and it flows. I'm listening to that sublime wave of music in my head. Today I'm the addressee of all that's perfect. They are themselves genitals, bellies opened. I let go of the vacant den thinking itself in the voice patiently digging a pattern in pond gas.