The second treaties on
In my goings
I shine in the beaming pleasures of doting statesmen.
In youngness and the acquaintance passerby should pride on notice
at unusual heights:
Aura’s speak a secret song in the heart of my mind
where all language begins and begins murders.
Attention is our scalpel
dotted lines and painted footsteps trace the carnival.
I might leap in the outlines of monstrous bounds
did tyrannosaurus drool?
The beam is a positive reciprocity,
lifts the beacon and beaconed.
I am deigned
and you are that that deigns,
we charm in our rain of confetti.
Save dissident pangs for walking
where we move ourselves ourselves.
Imperatives are followers from
Going or not is the doing
Speaking is always almost meaning.