*

o o o
o o o o

o o o o
o o o o o

o o o o o
o o o o o

*

Note:

Here is the bed, the loose form of the text, the sounds, the rhythm. And the prompt was banal, leaving the central figure to stand over the ice-fields, nabbed from some fantasy artist’s mind, smuggled through the blankness, surrounded by this form of the mouth, or entrance, and exit, this organ without a body – or corps sans organs.