xanthus clean fire to the ledge and we cannot be obvious

in the serpent of spray
within the humble
which all hungers leap
the very wish brims

are we shell the of
water is reversed sun
the plain fountain's god
upholds a find bent shell
for a water molecule

pattern that loose
collapse of water pleasant
the water-douse shade of eyes
become as sunlight
in a clear high cavorting
of water-lights her
sparkling delays rising
until familiar goose
in a gnatlike must

where eyes or droplets
become on the stones
its own wishes
or cavorting heads
rolling and flattening

it spills in threads then
the crumbles talk of long numbers
and its stone and threads of the streets
of our worldless that rocket glass obscured
spare proclaiming our singing locust dove’s
fountain and all soon
we have horse leaves

grousing on dialectics