hands and bones
disjoint and adjoin these
prefixes, for the hills of your
monoliths align with the lighting of the
north; and over and circular you
descend and ascend, feeling the blue of the water
and the paleness of the sky—and in
night, hanging softly, shrouding, impenetrable
valleys, immutable in their perception of your
calm, longing for the adoration of
feeling.