How you have unfastened yourself from me molding red clay in many shapes.
Relentlessly fashioning versions of thing after thing. How I distort in every mimesis.

What you are looking for refuses to be found, though you spread the red everywhere.
Futility becomes of your fingers, too nervous for sewing.

The frequency of this life distorts on you, and you see less and less.

Sole star of sky, unthinkingly, in the dye of yellow, verses you in elocution.

Parody to mutable earth, shall the shadows of stars turn aside?

Belonging to time has its perilousness. In fervor you have underestimated the vulnerability
of the infinite.

We too have wounded, and been wounded.

The heart wavers at the threshold of an uncommon door.
Imperceptible boundaries have multiplied like trees.

How to be water. How to be, they seem to say, stretching small arms in every weak direction.

The angles have become too much for me.
Time is what I ask for, so I may ***** my words for a certain moment.

How unthinkingly you have carried on into an isolate realm.

All worlds pull from me now, as though offended.