this winter parabola 12

xii.

pause. paradoxical, won't reach ground by your logic. won't attract lightning
either. space defined recursively: emergent/residual/powdered diamond sifting

fine from the cracks in your tumbler. have another. steady. i my own dialectic,
reverberate in the silver panels just back of the self, shocked transparency of

for others. clean. a rewound clock--shy of motion but seaworthy. to go a voyage
now a decision to bustle, draw up maps & rework lines, write a new environment.

yes replace it's good-bye, not au revoir as they say in the biz execute a certain
kind of nonchalance, programmatic levity/fatalism. that which you have bought

balances books; that which you have built remembers gathering; my parameters
newly sound. patient with the undoing of twisted power lines. compile. play.