My eyes are arid and cold on a portrait's insides. I am time-hardened wax and I can see wide! Fungus and frost have fondled my frontside and I- Did he wonder and wander in small ages? Did he forget that I died? He's older and ugly and a beautiful baby, he's retinal mist. Far away, far away, leaning and turning, I moan and I list!
Not flying, not walking, porous, like curtains, I hang on the dampness of Spring! I've known my own scrapings for so many years, I know that something is coming! Not demon, not quickly, gradual breaking glass... My knees will go out from under me! I've borne my own weight for so many years, I know the ground is dissolving! Not under, not behind, not slow and torpid... I'm far-away attic frost, free and untangled!
Didn't he wonder? I shall surprise him! Did he forget? I shall remind him! Please hold my hand, beautiful, ugly man! I've come untangled, but we shall find frost again! Dizzy and turning, you never need walk! I shall carry you, hold you, early and blinded! My son is no burden, I'm ancient with sorrow strength!
