I’m made unbidden      a present of not“supersonic”      as I texted Cox      though if I applyto my cheek       its soft bristle brushits bristles in circles around      circles      if I circlethe      face if I endeavor to massage      transparent its meadowdecorous its purely decorative meadowextract yellow-gold budded bouquets of oiland instructions      also music      play throughthe scouring brush      head whatshould I call these concentric buffs      that buffer“Party for One” into play     but super-fluous     the body forgotten again      this devicecalled “clarisonic”      echolocative promise      a clearancethis living face      won’t get      eventuality yet like      the cloudcatching no light in its passage      to dirt      the cloudwherein repeat selfies hover      undealt-withabove      catching no dust      immaterial at $2.99a month      a small fund seeding      the community-supported server farm      atop thigh bonesThe screen crisscrosses out      a spire of rainbowcast through the window      the outlinesnotice the waters rise      the rain gonethe reflective surface      need not pause—      a nimbusof images singing      O of me      have I triedto withhold judgment      re beauty      but a truer formof discernment      divests from the recklessholdings on of a past      where I was severallyclocked in the glass room looking at      the bronzebas-relief of three goddesses     before ParisI could not distinguish     between the threeposing      one of a trio      of jokesthe first goes      Renoir: I don’t either      another whetheror not     trained to ground     can you distinguishbetween clouds?      all the same say you areasked to     select from amongpower conquest love     you decideon love     you want to call it      loveturns out     the opening     of another frontFor your options      try to tell them aparttry to tell     which one you areor take cover            in presentimentclear the future      of heaven is      immaterialas ever caught up in     the question of     vantage &whether you are     whether you aren’tthe future of heaven     though without groundwould like to get out     of the clouds     to fulfillsome form     to abandon     try to     find in thisa trinity     let clarisonic’s virtue     the cloudstand in for a clear sound     say beauty cloudsthe devices      the cloud-devisedbeauty     or Beauty devising the cloud     in mea cover      a three-to-one      I flow throughthe connection between     the face circlingthe clearing     total occludingthe dissipate nimbus     the sound ofwhich surfacing