from Apparition Poems Adam fjefed

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#1562
#1335

terse as this is, it is "In Your Eyes," the song goes,

given to us in bits "the resolution of all my fruitless
carelessly shorn ~ searches," only what I see in your
u
from rocky slopes, ;
of this I can only i eyes is fruitless, and what Shelley
say nothing comes might have called "luminous green
orbs" look like turbid wastelands,
with things built in,
it's always sharp edges,
r
crevices, crags, precipice, t capable of ruining any day I might
have you nipping at my heels. This
abrupt plunges into "wants," l is what I think about her, but don't
what subsists between us

~
happens in canyons lined
in blue waters where this dare say, she's too young to know
slides down to a dense anything about wastelands, I'm an
bottom, I can't retrieve old scorpion with mud of my own.
you twice in the same
way, it must be terse
because real is terse,
tense because it's so
frail, pine cones held
in a child's hand, snapped.

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