1446

It is where we reside without holding a place

In eyes or voice

With inward face to a pattern wed,

A mere standard of breath,

Indifferent animal, to be

Unwrought by the furniture of complexity.

Desire surcease

Is a house aslant of angles

Knowing.

Out of memory is the foundation bent:

Of new faults to the splintered roots

A signature make,

And crescent of a bending.