There was a time when stone was stone
And a fa the street was a finished face.
Betweehing, myself and God alone
There was an instant symmetry.
Since you have altered all my world this trinity is twisted:
Stone is not stone
And faces like the fraed characters in dreams are inplete
Until in the childs inchoate face
I reize your exiled eyes.
The soldier climbs the glaring stair leaving your shadow.
Tonight, this torn room sleeps
Beh the starlight bent by you.