Nothing recedes like progress.
in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems
The sensual mysticism of entire vertical being.
XVII Lady, i will touch you with my mind. Touch you and touch and touch until you give me suddenly a smile,shyly obscene (lady i will touch you with my mind.)Touch you,that is all, lightly and you utterly will become with infinite care the poem which i do not write.
may came home with a smooth round stone as small as a world and as large as alone.
somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence; in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near