Quantum of Solace 2
But no, no, it's not the preposition
from which the book of poems is birthed.
It's the equation:
the quantum of solace;
the meandering love-line rivers
of Arabic numbers
married to their banking and bending.
It's because a preposition
joins a phrase to a sentence
which may not need it to communicate,
but I need you.
I do—
to sever my love into a fraction
of lines and stanzas, to be a landscaped bastion
of words, not numbers.
Above my roof,
the October cirrus clouds
erase the chalky proofs
of a man mentally committing his vow.
I have lied so much.
Floating Wolf
