The Phrases of the Moon

Full the blow to a gong —gone blind with the sight of white Silk, O milk of my reason— sun reseen in My mad mad mirror. Gibbous Sense Less science: the Wish-apparition of a perfect fact. As thought, the war Of one upon one. Half Half a mind almost mine. Whole fragment, I am A being from another word. Crescent Bow bent back—to what release? My lone line, the join of all I am not. A minor truth betrays A major one— A lore for the lyre. For it is written:liar with a why. New Calling all coincidence, I will Deem the dark my day. Yet—if I say I am lying, I am lying To you now. O zero raised to zero—I am lying with you now.