this is a reading of the time we spent at
in the quandary of love
listening to the birds,
watching for the violet rim of the twaining sky.
there is a seeing between
into the cracks and fissures;
there are creatures
that enfold the tension of being.
what is the stage, the stratagem,
the nexus of perception
that glistens in glands and organs
that shivers in the cold rain of unfathomableness?
(idio / 2011)