a circuit， bled memory

    a séance of the veins， a liquid hinge

    Deceit， the tones of dreamed sceneries

    defaced by a single face

    and yet the day itself is more marred

    by these traces of fragrance

    chances to fathom her absence

    or collapse with the sap of plants

    and sleep， and demand of a jasmine-scented face

    How are you still so fragrant？

    An object at a morgue or an organ