Touring (two rings)

The striking difference between intimacy and gossip

is that they are the same by this time, (off minor fairy tales of the uninterpretable)

I get the phoenix/The phoenix gets me. People start to find out and deserve an excuse to whisper. No need, (for) devouring

Both of us are asking for just the bright parts, Where nothing finally happens

The scandal bloc blank and no warmer than journalism, no more determined to warn, or yearn

And tambourines. And hands so close to orbit metal showcasing how the earth goes, to itself, for advice and starts to tremble which solves the conversation

Just enough pressure to make the reed vibrate, then none, the sunniest most matte stillness, transcendent obstruction

and a single human in the lucky rays saved from lynching by a fearlessness of heights

Imperial. Souless Eden, lethal perfection, restorative error, and I saw it, I watched it begin to hymn in him

I can't decide if what's left is an accusation, or a promise. Calm shame or


Confederal and joyful.

All we have established is that both offer a sense of belonging but one leaves time out of it and one drags itself out of time, palms first,

and the first thing it's touching is the matter(nothing), or in the matted air between our hushed voices there is a shrill scream we cannot access, drilling our perception for the left-out elements-- not fire, not fear, not the light, not the lie, not the lie again, not the lie. Why is your anxiety so lazy and mine so absently looking for repatriation, unamerican, some pledges we plagiarized while holding hands on the way backwards away from the ledge, are echoing, Fugitives, living in two-times, two-times, one for the body one for the mind one for the mend me, don't mention me, mend my soul, be kind to the men who told the the truth by accident,be that kind, be cruel to the one's who told it on purpose, be that cool