Start and End

We died in the same eras
"there, there you are submerged
soil suffused spinning with love
and semen, mist dispersed
dissipated by clarity. Dead journal
by diurnal journeys of illocal
circulations, the spheres, imperfect spheres."

pointed out perfectly from
the reincarnation of our perceptions

"it took two animals, telegraph wires,
a series of similar moments and that
made your left side. your cognition
is made up by part of our corpse
and words withdrawing, other abstractions,
the selfsame music of your clocks
and inflictive widdershins,
those who dragged your dead body
and my dead body
from the bottom of the sunny
gorge, dried blood, saliva."

Turning the pages
on illuminate frames
I sang funereal
to myself at her
past resting place,
to the black text.