the thousands of miscarriages
in senseless articulation
in a howling void,
but nevertheless meticulously archived
in one of his many bureau drawers.
Anyway, I found her lying in a room
Standing there with the scent
of dead insects and cheap perfume,
I found it outside on the steps.
Falling faintly through the
universe, and faintly falling.
All her loneliness.
The gray, straw-like hair.
It fascinates me how a single place
can join so much pain and happiness...
If we can't have everything,
true perfection is nothingness.
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