A dog running behind a blue square
Four cows yoked to a computer cable
— pomegranates on white linen — graphic confusion
Matter vanishes when the colors change
But if there is duration, I become the wings within your monastery
— my old faith — rotate a red window in a red room
Lovers kissing behind a blue square, a blue sky without lovers
VARIATION OF PRESSURES TO THE HEART
I summon my reflection over a window with a mirror behind it.
The sky looks loose on me, the sky a blue snow
Scattering through the leaves. Since breaking with you
Over blueness, over struggle, I have become unclear
About this prosthetic soul. Whether the snow moves faster, a long
Dagger of displacement. Whether the snow breaks rank and valence, the long leash
Of a dream. O my heart. My heart in a flaming armor
I pulled the ocean over.
This was Law. Outside oneself, more oneself than oneself.
Because my vision is still provisionally
Penurious, all the windows break apart but I see more
Than one of you — Suppress that second image.
Heaven’s universals abstract the inside
From the form. I want to be the one who disappears
Even as the squadron of angels arrives, their feet
Lowering. Wet spirit. Wet across two cubes of light.
Can a large intensity contain a small intensity?
A small intensity, smaller intensities?
If a blue snow scatters through the leaves, then
Let there be a sky. If the leaves brush the water
Behind the forehead, then the world’s shade
Lengthens inside me. But when I come closer to the screen
A grid of lines amasses in the shape of my shadow. If I die
While it holds me, my spirit has lost its way. The narrow furrow —
A room where a natal song plays on a loop, made one
With the first and last object of my reflection, and is it
Non-invasive? Following the transmission, blue
Wires have copied the dream of the water.
From emptiness remove space, from space
Remove air — a heart possesses not even a heart.
Hanxin Liu is a student at Stanford University.