kconlow's blog

Made Line

Nicholas Gulig

Superior, by which I mean the lake was not 
As much as we imagined 
It, a synonym, or else the surface 
Cold because the light 
Was catastrophic
In the distance, no, the water made of its 
Appearances, the presence of 
A promise formed 
The shore, the waves repeating 
And repeatable. I had thought 
That I was thinking 
Up, was therefore under it, the sky  

Was strange within 
The world at once upon 
But not itself 
Belonging. We looked away, 
Were other than 
And then the day was not of what between us 
Edged, growing 
Into sand the dark dissolved
To something less
Than brilliance, the wind within 
Itself a distance 
Yet again, a distance. I had to ask it  


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