Pardon My Grace,
So, I shit these out
every Tuesday. You deserve more
intent and at least a bit more gentlemanly attentiveness. Now what is left is to hone the
art of simmering the pot. Cooking
it at the right temp to see if there is some maturity in the words.
In any case don’t
hate my love song, so to speak. It
comes from places unknown that I seek and stumbled onto. It’s not an excuse or an apology, no
no, not at all. They are just words
that come before the ones below, like an excuse to engage you in a prolonged
kiss.
-DBL
* * * * *
Pearing Down to Geometry
(Stories of the Two)
I plan to see you
through the end.
Even though these
words you will find fitting but somewhat removed.
I speak in hopes of
sharing what I have seen in precious moments of the obscure.
If I can, can I
remove the Figure Square and the picture in which it was there?
De-flesh the souls
that saw, retreat all that are an event with minimum draw.
Lines that
intersect to a box
Four planes one of
which we have the floor
This plane could be
of future use
Altitude we will not
share
Losing one, peer in
there
A plane removed
became the door
He entered
We see him now a ray
that has only one direction
Back into itself
The dots that form
the set that are in this box
Some of three
One of two
2 of one
Separate lines wind
and wrap
The three in the
box
The white landscape
Packaged well they
won’t tell
From the space
displaced went the ray that held the first unwind
To the area of the
right triangle
She
Composed of intersecting
planes
Each its own
Finding time,
laying low
Tender moments left
to show
Concentric circles
that became his eyes
He had a glance
Even then he would
not take that chance, but what he saw the Colors True.
They themselves
list the shades he tried to hide.
In the honey brown
he did not lose knowing there was interest, which he could not refuse.
Light brown
segments made the flow, round the evidence of a wish he traced often.
Fleshy pink and
purple nodes, a dense line that should be avoided, this is where a closer
inspection finds repetition like before.
An arc that ends up
a sweet gesture.
Congruent figures,
a light brown section of orbs rolling to the lower quadrant.
Just the same he
saw her change in his direction.
The helix that wrapped
around her bare, fell to the plane that is now of use.
Two adjacent angles
on a block, slowly flowing to a spot.
Can I leave it
where we are?
At this point,
which I find fair left to unravel with only the two to share.