i have fallen through all beauty(till
eagerly met i this moment)

when shrugging elegant words
eased from the cream of colorless
pages a purely growing perfection

into my soul the inconcise mess
of edward's dumb fingers
and his most dead mind

the confusion of all instantly wondrous splendor
(and edward, did you suppose that caught as if by
filaments dying immortal threaded into woven
hanging letters the gush of when you rused up
the best hill driven by black wine that i would
laying amongst pale cotton come alive in you)?