I kiss so, this gentle flits
the remnant mirror. To sidetrack the
jonesing now. That’s me, the ton sur ton
singer ad lib. Thrusting the hours
in a hangman’s noose.
This kiss also, this gentle collects
us to us as evidence. So when
I breathe that note, that one note
so deep so low a silence swathes our
knottingness, there is always that
distant kiss, that now is echo.