In the beginning language imagined a history without roots, then cut back to discussing feelings
as cascading forms. This detail is like a youth examining the blue-veined style of words.

                                             unexpected youth
                                                   imagines the darkness
                                 of centuries
                                       where surprising forms glide into
                                       the crystalline edges of language

                                 the length of which shimmers
                                              with the reddening prose

                                       of women
                                              encountering objects
                                                  of  this fictional life.

A ledge with stalagmitic candles, with faded knees gliding toward the flat edge of a floor pitted
from the moisture of centuries of surprises, where lions wait
with a crudeness of manners that breaks through several layers of night.

                                               now technology
                                                    cranks the knees
                                                        of lingering words.