#114

What touches, touches a hole. What doubles back, intangible. Blake, framed, with photo-stubble. The old self-precatory portraits. The eye's anadiplosis. *Click.* And *click* again. Tongue-tied in what's seen. Collogue and colloquy. The colophon's a number: #115, letters a and b and c. The corresponding album - shelve it. Niduses.

And then, in the afternoon, it rains. Bryan and I are wet in it, a towell shared between. Homos sapient. The plan. What is there / sides hands and roads / and Diotima's ladders? Day 3: The Mysterious Day of Love. Where stephen's flat, derided. Be he truculent or carnal. Auto-ambulating. The v'water needs to wander. Under bridges, out of bounds. Sarah says, day 7, I'm leaving. She has flowers in her hair. And tonight? New moon, I hail thee. Show me how many moons it will be.