Epigraph of a Shadow, The Blind Sand of Prufrock
The image of a triangle dislocates beauty,
Its angles surround the perfection
Of its hallucination.
The brown fog is sterilized by a
Drowning visit to Mermaids that burn throughout
Purple, in your arms, Alfred, thick, explosive, as
The mouth stains the apple,
When the whispers of children remove our eyes.