The channel is shaded blue. Of delicate phrases spiked with white stains, as though awaiting…

Every grunt is conspiracy. Faint colors register their fragrance, move unhindered through the chamber, caryatids…

The names: some reek downward their sudden power, others depress mysterious chords of mislaid remembrance,…

The worm breaks the garden into black tunnels. Question the worm and receive silence gladly.…

When words dream I am at a loss desiring the ‘us’ I left and thereby…