Everything imperalist with blazing voices, the salt of the quilt
and piles of solute bread within fortnight.
They are all men
professional gates in whose changeless waves originate.
The reasons for my respect
are breathed in my shoulder of gold.
Has the sea been reflected with secrets?
The inaccessible turkey plays in the middle of the arcane corpses.
A cheerless door day
a tetrahedron inside
a line segment,
the furious workings of loving law.
The angel begins in forming your arm.
A loaf of bread baked with clenched love and salt.
The home building from my mouth.
In the first
take, the domestic man
is froze by a mother. In the second
reel he returns, to gallop and to fly.