the recursive I
strained through mirrors
loses solvency
the primary play of language
on the plump primariness of lips
original essence
encoding air with similitude
the spaceless point
of vertical self
diffused in horizon
Alexia chatters in the morning cafe
bagel tortured with coffee
the butter, disembodied,
is a buoy-light
the ever-shifting shore
Her friends form a knot of intention
single mind
of the many bodies
tabula rasa
in the confluence of wood pulp
the profusion of manyness
from the lips of the few
and they speak
lines out of nothing
speech out of sound
choking and gurgling
drinking
the river of becoming
their clothes are constructions
of fakery and pomp
the polis
of the manufactured thread
the recurrence of the dye
fabric like airy wings
the vibrato of the breeze
pennants and flags proclaiming:
I
am the sound of what I say
the texture of my movement
the self of the sparrow
lies in the birdsong
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