Lynn Xu

THERE WERE ETERNITIES DURING WHICH IT DID NOT EXIST.

Vivid.  Sun overhead.

You overdid it.   The ankle was showing.   Lavender takes on

touching directness.   The sensation

and the heavy shadow cast by the string unless carefully disguised

could give you away.   The gun is set aside to show the room

more evenly.   The man was a few hours

from vanishing completely, but I had read everything.   And a good deal of it

was true.   But certain things have a way of returning, for what was done

grows young and large.   Not without principle.   Whose perfection

is the very absence of nature.

THE THOUGHT DID NOT BRING YOU CLOSER.

Like the movie, which had a balcony in it, but wasn’t really

about love.   Where grass broadened

in broad sun there truth is marked by an X

clutched at the knee.   They projected a ladder onto the one

without anatomy, the sensual one, that though the figures reversed the continents began

resisting language and music were set down before you, meat, instinct, daylight

plunged toward the sky

were to touch each other.   Were to you

vast and transparent.   Tearing your shirt open, in the tall grass, continued

shouting across the bay.