"Loosening of surface," the fall
Away from completion and from
The desire to fully finish
Is the forgiveness at the end.
"Faciebat." Mark that I was
Doing this, not that I was done.
I had a something once, would be
About ten now, at least in me.
The incompletion is itself
The gift from the artist to now,
Winking half-light of the godwit
Traveling forever, there, here.
The blocking out of perfection
Imperfectly smoothed, kissed, and done
Is the only imperfection
I've ever wooed and never won.
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