Contrapposto figures, twice the equinox
equals the day and night. The humming cicada
sits on the wall and doesn't have an agenda.
The lizards eat the bugs, the paradox
of the iris grows. I put the light in a box
and try to keep it, the nonsense of Dada
or the fluid lines of a rose. The ripe vulva
and the soft petals, the awesome heterodoxy
of sex and love is displayed in the fall
of leaves in the early winter. It's the duty
of the earth to revolve, the resplendent skill
of the beloved inspires us. This ambiguity
in art, this anaphora is a violent hell
through which we wander toward infinite beauty.
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