The engineer itself : neither genius , nor speechless ;
an apparition. From whence do all these voltaic piles conduct?
Despotic optics.
Incorporeal --
Theory speeds toward sense uncertainty.
Keep focused on the bled mural . Your face may be
odd, but it's not a façade. The pointed shadows
intermix between lacy lines and ladders
flung plump almost as song or sound
simmering gravely. Agate or gouache .
A ghost ache , or private theory .
Torch--Touch--Torsion. Pain smooth enough
to show nearly all the new nerves. A few near
the new fears. The buzz --
Odd, almost pronged ghosts. No longer those
premonitions of fibrillation. Inspiration creeps
its petty pace. Pace. An eye patch out for it.
And did the temperature drop deliberately
into the thirties? Boldly, then
bodily