I no longer have the strength to believe.
The absence of belief is my one belief,
Like a hole in my private ozone.
These spectacular flames, these oblique rays,
There is no speculation I might have
That has not already occurred.
It has been handled by everyone and you
By the time I finally take it up.
Wisdom would have to be something
Felt by all from all eternity,
Something fallen nearly into neglect,
Shined up, and placed, exactly, here.
One loses confidence in one’s touch.
I drank the broken gate before it closed
To me forever. Some sightless man looks back
Now from a respectful distance.
I wish I could move forward or go back.
I, the statement of fresh water