such a gorgeous entrance

such a gorgeous entrance

 

epithought

 

as the rain in small

drops inter

ject,

 

hands

that stretch the edges—

 

from within

the witnessed margins

 

she and the heft

without an edge—

 

“the word

moon doesn’t even appear

in the calculations”—

 

to not know what to do

in the collapsing figure,

to admit not knowing

 

indulge not knowing

 

“a gorgeous

entrance”—a decision

 

she places herself along with the furniture,

one with the woodwork she—

 

not so much as a breath and she’s

a no name story

with such big windows

 

 

 

 

Emmanuel Hocquard’s POEM (section 1.) is quoted: “the word moon . . .”
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