Struck

I, so liking to enjoin myself to observe,
and to deeply hold her mind

well worked into
mine, all holding–inside it, in mind.

So, enjoyed to liken, then, not-
nothing regardless of reality-fielding

irregularities dotting her tees, her: she,
criss-crossing my two eyes.

Laughing, no longer lasting apart while fallen
tumbling,

threshing truths on the venom of hefted lips.