Love swept away the crumbs
And made its exit. Over the
Great fields of Horace, over the
Time-ridden monkey bars of yore,
There is a taking up of things.
The rambunctious night flutters
Like a towel, the past that makes us
Go around and around, it's how we
Have latched onto things. Beautiful
Stained glass surrounds me now.
I want nothing, and I want to give you
Nothing. This is why I say, hold
Me, as the many limbed hunk of
Earth spins and spins, knocks us around.