there began almost a pale nothing
fleeced in nearly night
whose stomach
was vastly
muttering a strain
of ivory music
a tune
like
        unlike
                    winter

like summer more
slatterned
                   a various
sometimes
woman with
2
   apples for cheeks
   tanned rosy
at clattering
slop
        of my palm

and the wig
of barelySpring's
     cloying
     vagrant
                   smell