I gathered all my powers
to periphrase my ignorance of flowers.
Our conversation was unreal
Tulips turned to plastic on my tongue.
When you took off for Paris
the propellors seemed to go backwards.
Like an unleashed top I foundered
in drawn-out entropy, unstable, grounded.
Paris changed you more than you changed Paris.
You came home the portrait of a lady,
dropping names of galleries, trite
mementoes, in your train,
forcing me to see you in the new light
of your mother, beaming forth delight.
As we walk by the river
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