The Unfading – Multiplex Inflorescence

She starts to speak
         I see only her:
         behind glass,
         backlit by sun,
         beautiful: my Amaranth
holds her tongue
         sees right through me:
         five feet, five fingers away
         but I’m not one to grasp
         to judge distance
or am I
         unfading, unreachable,
         drenched by sun,
         forever behind glass?
         My beautiful Amaranth
the autochthonous one
         grows in places inaccessible
         unobtainable, shivering but still
         a vision on the verge of voice
         a vestibule, a variorum
who must speak
         who mustn’t speak –
         my Amaranth
         beautiful, backlit
         by sun, unfading
from behind the glass

03/14/2011

Posted on 03/14/2011
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