The world is a temple where the vertical supports
    sometimes execute its inhabitants with eloquence
when a FOREST of symbols people women with mensonges
    which then reflect them in reflected siblings
As long echoes confound us from a distance
    in a dismal but profound reunion vast as night
suffused like radiation--as perfumes COLOR
    the responsive sound language enslaves us to
Scents fresh as the bottom of a baby
    sweeten OBOE players leant on elbows
in their praries and rich others
    perverse and triumphant in the in
Finite choice of things—its benison of flat
    tery like amber and musk their chants trans
port as children SENSE the encased
    tangle of their errant spirit erased                                
                         from BAUDELAIRE OHIO
                     Fever Fowers: Les fleurs du val