90

Eurydice

She set forth her touch to him,
bruised integument still discoloured.
She danced in an outline of
the present is gone. They touched each other.
They do. Beyond this apprehension is
to get up, eyeing a stranger, crying,
and creep towards the border of the day.

Courses that irrigate will become brackish.
The hand will command individual space,
disconnected, frailty figuring shifting surfaces,
drafty, the inert lens formulating errors made.

Too long now you've finished,
Or some other, living,
excavating loneliness and horizon.

The strangeness.

It's an eye,

She heard of the psyche. Within herself, she wove a man asleep. Ache lost himself in the giving. Shivering terror. Momentarily pushing. Many is nothing else.

I gave her my hands; incredible the body. Laid waste. Inconceivable and now permitted. The extracted Tree of psyche, walls and the fool cockeyed, without cause.

Flow yields memory, gold and copper it cannot measure. In the wood, mode tv, mischief, beauty. The water is light. Through fields no longer, to confuse pulses in the shadows. Hands.

I love you is all our knowledge.

 

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112

that lazy Herr von Glück as his luck would have it must have thought looks could kill thrilled at the prospect of the virtual killing by music a fearful momentary reward quickly retracted that crucial ay momentous twinkle of an eye slated for immortality when vain Orfeus glances over his shoulder only to crack the mirror

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