20 The daffodils & tulips are red & yellow, purple. Spring. I am here. The dark, aromatic river & earth will shadow me, swallow me. What greater news could you have? The small trees emit purple blooms among the trees that have been dead for so long & are dead in me. Something about a hundred doors. Dusk, variants of silence & darkness. Impossible trees. What greater news could you have? 21 Fragrant trees. The leaves are autumn. All I ask is that we agree on that. All I ask is that you love the boy in the skeleton costume playing in the leaves. When, fundamentally, it is me. We can agree, can’t we, light is not meant to drink. Flows, at evening, around the house. What greater news could you have? We want to divide it, that’s the thing. So, we believe that sort of thing. Next thing you know, it’s summer, standing in wan dusk, with damp cloth of soul, when it is not what you wanted.