Monitions of the Approach
…
All’s intimation, some
future intoxicant, and even in exile
Ovid ruled the regency of erotic tumult.
Useless hours flare in an unwritten book
and dreams: not clear ones, they win their reward here,
but those obliterated save for one color or phrase.
Our death and birth are
flickers of shadow and light there, are motions of water.
Our earthly form, a few fiery words.
