I wanted to tell you how struck I was
by the woman from Daugavpils who appeared in the showstone
you presented last we gathered at this forum
I was struck by the pitching ruel
the shards of sidereal damask
the shroud of disappearing ice she wore
as she was pitching toward the Levant
I’d like to see her again in the amber
I wouldn’t mind feeling her skin
through lace
and smelling wet gunpowder
Is her second sight like mine, Kyrios?
Is her second sight like mine, you Valkyrie?
Will I see my mother and father there?
No. No. No.
I’m ashamed
She was brought up Lutheran and we’d never met before
I was pitching toward the Levant
but crying out always
for the owl’s blood.
In the summer you found cruel
Knowing full well
I won’t come back
I put you deep in the ground.
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