The Ambassadors — Part 5

+ This is a poured-truth dressed in memory and cut down; this is a matter ruff; a gray middle the world is in flight and many things circle. What world do you want me in? I ask. But I am confronted with touch, the work of hand and eye, and a kept-remark roaming ... When in Rome, I think. + A dressed-memory: never did more frill mean curtained-silence. Hello? We’re here, they say. I remember the moment first-harvested: no possible brimming is ever frank. At that age, who knew filth could be forward. I thought I could cut it down. + Look, the leaping is possible, I think. I watch the way evening attaches to us. See its starting point? It banded, uncontrolled and gleaming. Our jewel. Not all worlds see the darkness. Remember: the world is good, that leaping center is a tuned heart. I want that melody. + What world do you want me in, now? I ask I feel broad-throated, and slippy. I say,tell me the times the chronicle mentions me. 56, she says. Let me be clear: I knew. I said,I knew. I wanted to have my own grown romance.Plant me another. Do it now.