and this book is a rose on the deconstruction of constellations into starfall.
I have written a rose on deconstruction; here’s a postulation:
beautiful things are made to be placed behind gates.
elaboration: wild colored street mulch roses illuminated by the lingering noon sun.
elaboration: the rainbow row of roses locked behind bars outside the rectory of
St. Joseph’s Catholic Church; incarcerated resilient holy display.
elaboration: the passing of a grandmother, whom i didn’t know,
mother to the father i do not know
who abandoned the mother i barely know.
that book has closed on everything but one memory:
an impression of a neat yellow square patch