*

 

I think what I want yon rabbit wants me

To think, on account the sky 

Walks casually our runaways, & all the buffet 

Is longing for five minutes less 

Of loved eyes so like roots to attention 

The stars are / the stars collapsed 

To think that dust rug is between 

Soul which is the animal / sometimes that 

It does not reoccur: the dead in / the 

Living removed, narrowed by following 

W eyes the root’s marble / them, leaves what I want

& a corner after need is the shape no one in 

Need is / rather if I could 

Say mother becomes night said the dead

Pie, the vatic common / love cannot research