Invites us to contemplate the mythological.
Thousands of gods.
Worshiped. Adored. Adorned.
Then swept aside.
And then later, pages later, the interaction is particularized and the transitoriness rendered with even greater fragility…
[T]he goddess came down to earth
And when she saw his face
And softly stepped
upon his forehead
taking the form of snow.
A shower and silent mounds
of white petals.
A different book. Almost similar games with syntax and the cumulative effect of description.
Lets it go. Seems to be enough
of whatever it takes.
What’s today? The road to nowhere.
Ever diminishing particulars. Not
like loosing memories. Losing
the pause in the day’s occupation.
A detail. An overlooked moment
recalled. That. That going.
Was going to leave it? Alone.
But turned. Decided no. Go on.
Unsure what was being avoided
then embraced—if that’s the word.
This reads almost like an interior dialogue of question and answer turning on the gentle attraction between going and losing: the semantic fields embrace each other.
And so for day 1489