1.
Thought begins with the interruption of a rhythm.

   not what if
   not what is

As real as released, aerial
Inscape.

   A calculus entitled "Of the arrow loosed toward God —
   its
   necessary stillness."

(Not reading, but sorrowing
   over the uncoiling
   letters —

   melting the dark, delicate bones of the "loom"
   or the "loon" —

A "whiteness" that fades to "witness" —

   a furious Number; heat-turbulence.)

So the Quiet is unmade, "that
   made all things" — a howl's hollows.

& the first mark, an arc sinking upward, crowded
   with sensations.

2.
Among these dunes, these nudes.

Grain by grain, the body's argument
Escapes its skin —

   pouring multiples of Fancy through
Ephemeral masses.

("Gather me" obeys this Byzantine imperative.)

It is a system of "Costumeless Consciousness"
That displaces volumes beyond burning.

— how the eyes are transcribed to trick the ash —

   Cloak of cold, the mirror's
Mime, the colors emptied of possession.

No longer human, the hands, to negate the eyes
Are left to write "pale Orients" —
   
   their phrases
   removed from clockwise counting

But tolling as if to hasten
   the marriages between objects.
"Islanded"
   the twin halves of like and unlike

   — where red advances, not
Read, toward violet, violent rhyme.

3.
As Gravity must have its Ground —
   banishment, its shadow —
   & the room, its metaphysical occupant.

Outside language, mind is the passenger of motion.

(Another "I"
   to follow the vowel's unfinished shape.)

Lifted into brilliance, earthen brow

   that verbs in order to reverberate —

That cycles, that sickles
The centuries down

To the body's cure, the core unsounded, and the letter
   that changes its origin.