The Ruby Realm of Things

 

You know the ruby realm of things

where rich suspicions bloom
into expectancies which soon collectively
assume an assonance that sings? –

the place in dreams providing for the sweet

embrace of singularity which brings
a nihilistic whiff of the complex,
which generally has to do with sex
but quickly forms a union with the vexing
depths of parsing the perplexities
of what, next, you should do? –

which then, enslaved to some unmediated

mission of the brain, attains divided form,
intentions split in twain, expostulating
to themselves absorbedly? –

that space in which one part explains it

to a counterpart who doesn’t have a clue?

Of course you do.

.