rewinders

i am bright with the breath of the world that was, a world that had not yet moved on. by my will in this when i turn did into does, so each sunset cedes space to a dawn.

let this be the kernel, let this be the seed; let this be creation, let this be [. . .]

at lantern’s list

that was when we saw it, and our eyes grew wide in shock. well, what else would you expect–what would you do, if you looked up and saw a city walk?

they had convened in secret–not in silence, but unseen, for who of us on level streets had learned what cutstone’s graven cravings mean? say [. . .]

short sight and long circuit

“i want a pursuit where i parse pressure readings. i want a mind that can measure how misleading certain shades of cyan seem to sufferers and singers. i want my body rebuilt by the Bringers.” no preamble, no premeditation: this is how he was advised to speak.

clickering and flickommunication; iridescent distillumination. a filamental flash; [. . .]

inlettings

let fire be fire. let cat be cat. let this be here, and there be that.

let liver be anger. let hand be hold. let cloth be protection. let brass be bold.

let leaf be light-eater. let red be heat. let crescent be crucial. let muscle be meat.

live, and let living be leaving and [. . .]

hone her tune

the sky falls slow in slivers and shards; to us, it’s all silver. we walk through the yards of the blueblooded bored, and each candlelit window’s a faithought restored. in thermal profile we see each other’s faces, a sheath of warmth around us given shape by snowflakes’ traces as they dance on breath and barely [. . .]

a staring problem

she tends to focus on the phases and forget about the faces. she studies so closely how resemblance dissembles that she trips on her shoes’ traces and gets trapped when trading trembles. she’s one of those unfortunates, so sensitive to gravity, who end up treating dancing as diminutive depravity.

she loves structural color, like rainbows [. . .]

reductio ad infinitum

by alphabet, by number, and by sign we net what nature never met unwed and make of space a square, of time a line.

reality by [t]reason realigned subordinates whole heart to half-wise head to half-abet a numbness by design:

diminishing to datum, we define all shadows out from deeps divine, shades shed to mark [. . .]