...disposition
make your peace with me
in one piece of you
knowingness is not reducibility
......except if only through words
dash into the darkness
i’m there in the trees, swelling
snow into willing shapes
swilling air disposed to ice
the sublimation of you is feeling
this drive towards in
twirling circular, in spiral somewhat towards me...
wishing it were excessive and light
and too much
this jouissance is blinding
i want moresiouxzi mernagh
