There it was: it could only happen once, that I
saw you for the last time. To take the livid, coal-
black rings around your eyes (black rings, also, not
surreptitiously around me-who-could-be-to-you,
who seduced you, led you away from your girls,
from whom the needle-injections tattooed all that
coal), dissolve the black into the gold which was
actually in your brain (which bid you see the world
strangely, shapes, colors, lights, movements of them,
with incredible vivid cleanliness, jarred into narrative
motion, again, by split-in-half sensibilities, being twins),
all that needs to be done is to put the paintings in
plain view in the world & step back. Plain view is still
plenty difficult, but I’m willing to find my own eye-rings to do it.
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