Wednesday, September 5, 2007
41
The body moves
in black satin, you
could imagine
how much leg room
could fit into
K's thought of it; he
takes the pencil
& something moves
his hand, through
the glove
onto the page,
dense matter, an
accumulation of himself
against white
when he draws it
& she walks
as traces of pencil
following the
line of what
he forgot.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
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