A Cleaving Unto

In.

Purpling evening-time.

A dress. A hem. A stitch.

(I propose delivery of a sort of state-of-IT address: AHEM! Astitch...

a tapestry, quilt-like built, but not of bolts, patches;

rather of spindlings and skeinings... being in media res rests ne'er, ne'er senescent.

Shocks!

• 'Growths' rings unseemly.
• 'Developments' builds bockish.
• 'Organs' begs rupture.
• 'Ways' studio-fades mystical.

Threads, then, threads and trends - as color, line, form in-fold

Of course, by necessity of tradition, of Old Thought, fates

Are what).

Out.

Of night, I say this: purple blacks, mostly,

Besotted by stars.