The New Romance is the Old Romance
To get to the whole
(whole is the true
is the truth)
take the woods
through to the house
of sun and moon.
“Here is one hand,
here is another.
These are the yellowed
callous and knuckle,
those are the bevels
on the jeweled ring.”
How would it look
if sun circled earth,
if someone were tall
as their own palm,
if left hand
deeded to right?
Rust little, son.
Subdue tenderness
adoration, thunder.
Baths of stars
wash earth
we are. The whole
is the true
is the truth
cannot rest.