...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 more

siouxzi mernagh