Fingers quivering in tides,
in tides of leaving veils,
roll to reach & dispose
a play of autumn undress.
Thus, the two have learned
how to sculpt or paint
a love’s embodied sight
and ageless memory stamp.
Thus, how to let what knows
and tells be—what would die
in time’s callous grip if unlived.
And that altogether native suit
does compare to a common day
like the art of a see-through night.
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