Between Everything And Nothing Is The Absolute

where the directionless
wandering
which way does
the wind blow
does it take
100,000 glasses
wine, blood or memories
to bring
a blush
to the snow
rotund and white and dormant
like huge some
monumental Christo
sculptures made
out of air
looking at
sideways
escaping passes
of fair flames
hot orange snakes
and pain
that washes away
if I could
there would
be more harmony
more minutes
less deleted scenes
can't you see
everything that happens between now
and this
is captured
in dreams
or in colors
lost in a
forgotten breeze
last rites
last nights rescinded
the hand ticks one more
over and then
never will
it tick in time
again.