And even you as much if
me the worst. Flaunting, as
they say, with the drape of
your dressings what furrows beneath
—the body!
Unsure if, when pregnant with
the possible—smells, so tied to
the memories?—carried. Unsure
if the parallax or mirrored lenses
still hide the eyes
finds the ends, and has
only loved—really—once
and released him in the
ennui of some other loss—the
Fraternité.
