II The blank page won't lease me ...

II
The blank page
won't lease me dream;
it incites me to clear
and exact metrical composition

I take harbor
on this pristine shore
where nothing exists
for night to fall forward

Without any night,
all fountains cease;
without any fountain,
there is no flight;

without any flight,
nothing recalls the flowing
of my time, in the wind
wherein time thwacks

VI
Not the form place
like a seashell, wasted
among sands as limp
as hair;

not the form obtained
by a favored or divine throw,
by shooting at glass rabbits
of the invisible;

but the form attained
like the