What errant labyrinth, what blinding flash
of light reflected from a diamond, what
awful verse personified! I have designed
these poems for different purposes, schemes
and tropes with objects. What confused diadem,
what ornamental sonnet, what turning color
today is dressing the sky? I have composed
these songs for similar reasons, patterns
and cycles without meaning. She expresses
herself in the ways the trees grow, in the
colors of the iris, in the weeds that lean
on the side of the road. The old language
is confusing. I have discovered a grammar
of love that seems to explain everything.
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