I've switched circumstances
for symbols:
motion in blue light,
set in a bedroom,
a classroom, a stage:
my movement and my meaning.
Desk and bed padded beyond ordinary,
like morning with the glasses
still on the bedside table.
Soft edges to rub against.
Her face is an idea,
and smiles in the design;
Everything Mona, smiling—
and I bow to worship her
when I tie my shoe,
seriously.
Great gods
rule minutiae
in their spare time, some say, but I
have traced through my sight,
small dot to dot,
sewn up the puzzle in charms and omens,
and blurred it all together,
abstracted into unity--
just a feeling of her face.
Mona mystery.
Myopically soft spirit,
whose edges can be hugged,
leaned on, transformed,
flexible as clouds.
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