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21 Envelopes of Sky If I had forgotten, here they are again, the invisible (transparent) envelopes of sky, clear vesicles and spheres infused with scent, intoxicating : the rotting leaves layering close, closer to the earth (a moss, spent, a rust and burn), the fetid pond with its excrement of geese, the coins of rain through the gutter grates, the cold clean hint of the moon, like water, a wetness of half-sharp blades, a weariness, then grass—cut— and in pockets, an attar: the ravished elixir leaking from night flowers, as from a gash, a knick in velvet, and from the thin injury, the liquor beading at the seam, it a mere constituent in the mix, the scent of dying—this, 22 the sky, I’d wanted pure, I’d meant the swirling orbs of air as each a reservoir in which to disappear, I’d thought, and there— to breathe?— ...

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