۱
At a certain depth, you will see
The revolving shore, the bolstered
Panopticon reeling from so much
Vision; at a certain depth, the mid
Wife of leavened sorrow breaks; it
Is denied, reddened and bleached;
At a certain depth, you will see
Crutches of meaning, the daubed
Paper stains that are now ghosts.
۲
No, the lamp in the cast off bulb Is not the one you seek; you seek The heart of riverstone; no, that Plinth, that crux is not the song You sing; you sing the heart of a Bledstorm; no, those ballasts oft Sped into truthspills are not the Wrong you seek; you seek the peat
۳
I swallow my rooted mask at the
Tip of error,
At the glowing mint and whisper;
The tip of
Error, at the house of worship and
Want; at the
Tip of error, I swallow my rooted
Mask and fly.