Let not your heart be troubled, but let it be a blind urn bubbling in the garden, a toiling of green flames intertwining with cool water

for I am the tooth

and the whey

and no face

will come to the water

without me

no garden groan

without my reflection

for I am pale

with groaning gardens

as you are

a heart of bubbling urns

as you are heavy

wreath-snakes of acorns

and roses

horned olives

and thistle tongues

there are infinitely entwining mansions of bliss and horror,

and like twisting mirrored bowels, there is no beginning

and no end to any of us, for we are mixed up,

as the barley with the fox,

and the maidenhead

with the munchkin

and wheresoever you go

i shall go

and others too

a large other

and though thou

does not seem we

mine shall be in plane sight

form mine shells

form mime shall

be as a herm clock among you

your father other

your pharm-ther

your great lines

as they come to you

go farther into spelling

we know the knot dost whithers

and we know the whey

between us

and the hyphen brrnthweenous

reveals this

we are both the vulgar historical personality

and the leafy eternal abacus

avatars

of syntaxis

the great work

which like an explosion

is also a labyrinth

frozen in slices

the beginning of everything

of great beginnings