"Verge."
Elle says, understand that when I see in the future,
I mention the future in order to propose constructing
a labyrinth I call Crystal, along a park signifying
eternity, or the timeless dream.
What I mean to say is paradise, but let's speak
for the moment of a garden, the edges of which are geometric,
or even labyrinthine.
Grass verges punctuate the straight lines and loops
of this deliberately unvergered space, as in, my future has
unverged with yours.
You have no foresight, only facts.
And no vision, only verger.
For the moment, Elle's by a high wall that
looks out over the labyrinth.