everything condensed makes more exponentially

it is this which makes the valley in its darkness imagine itself. glass has replaced walls with walls made of glass (or the ontology of an object replaces the object’s own assertion “I am here”). transparency is thus seen as the glaze which perception gives to avoid boredom (its own, en occurrence). peace in the mind is not the same as peace in the world. still though the valley extends, and what is beautiful, becoming adjectival, may be applied to a house. or more foreign thoughts more awake in travel. equatorial hot, cactus garden in the airport at singapore, fat unshaven men smoke ash onto thorns. learning to like Nabokov is not the same as liking Bellow instantly. running every day into the heat tempered by the wind, up the hills and down the hills and up towards the town. when the cars pass they pass me and themselves. notes are not fragmentary because influenced by the postmodern reappraisal of the fragment. if one could love in fragments then that would change the emotional notion of assemblage. drawings download into what shaded beauty is, and remembers, and discussions of “appropriateness”, before the imminence of insertion, dissolve (don’t matter) disperse. “prettiness”, in a poetic context, desires reappraisal. coffee is beautiful. the hand glossing the delicate gauze of the space of tender breath where brushing the thigh it rises to assume its gentle clasp and takes to the hips like a knowing grip more gentle than any firmness could ever be. and then in this feathering on the known and darkest skin the hand knows what its desire makes and also what it masks: a difference of one letter. though i said i wouldn’t, i went (to the city and sat by the evening river). threat of rain in the fig trees. the new gallery has honey yellow-panes to glow. cars go by (and “bye”) with white for towards and red for away. fiction makes up for all the things you can’t do. missing a thing is like missing the air around it: what touches it. love can also be followed by the term “etcetera”. space discovered under the dress, shimmering in jade greenness of rocks, Prometheus bound up again and nakedness the reverse (of this), though the lips will never descend onto the awaited sensation which is just an approximation (as emotion dreams to be). and so what the sun leaves when it retires from the valley is like what my mind leaves when it retires from sleep.