(draft 1)It is not insistent. It is not desperately clinging                                                      to the is, the are.              It is familiar with the dusk.(I write, “It is familiar with the dusk,” words.)     It does not call                    Do you believe, do you believe.I don’t know how much like a church it is                                                                     but the sun,the sun if it knows worship clearly knows this,                               it reaches with its chasm      towards the soft muscular throat, thinking                               Inside. There must bean inside. It repeats this. Epochs chamber by.I was stunned by the sheer scholarship of it.        As well, the sound milk makes, or a sound                                                 milk might make.Come away then, from the incision.                                                                           The windshot through the fence post like a knot of silk.It is directly related to light, to the Pauline                                                                 mission of light.         Perhaps it is a preaching to the bees.Scalded, pressing forward at the top of the wall,          what does your soul say now,                                              warden. Scars break                                                                            beautifully                in the early hours, you must beawake to catch their fragments as they descend.            Some ashes of bees, kept reverently.       Little bits of Chopin on loan from adversity.Memories of livestock filling the streets,        archive them                       together with the bandages. What?Yes, the new ones as well as the soiled ones.And then: to bleed light, as if it were a key.                  Wound wound wound wound!      The wonder of it, almost but not quite a lock.                                              But it sounds better               than Hölderlin Hölderlin Hölderlin!which is perhaps the more accurate translation.(draft 2)                                                                Let’s     memorize the darkness together, you & I.