What cloud, dim constellation
you pale moon of deep detachment from the self.

Dark moon undersea, you are unwilling to perform me
So come! It clings untold time before leaving; reduces the fat of life.

Though your gravity blots out possibility, there’s use hanging aloof
an opaque cloud, tempering all things loud, bright, and obtuse--

Now you are sealed with all time, you want kindly to observe
Stillness.

And when all time departs in a vapour,
you cling without occupation,

an array of senses, then often you begin:
sketching and sketching, and sketching.