Opened between void and recognition. The not vivid.Colorempty, casual.Unlike memory, bliss in dark-ness, an announcement. Movement outlined not contained—a smallfeeling, I can’t, like happiness outlived. A month. The trim clock.The sameindignity:elevator, groceries,an armload of August wildflowers. My friend,nowhere.Duration. To this collapsing hall, this charging late gold in summer,my color. —Eyes close,the answerbetween everything. Peony.Chamomile. Marigold.The flagrantunderworldopened nowagainst metaphor … The moral of the flower is the flower.
