WEBVTT

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OK.

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I'm going to finish
with a few amulets.

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"September Amulet."

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A pause is also an amulet.

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Silence.

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The resting of tongue against
what one shall not say.

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Florid taste against
tarnished speech.

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My hand is an amulet.

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Pale.

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Restraining beds of fragile
leaves from rot, tread.

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From russet, press.

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From arcane, meandering
in sable light.

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From propulsive ruffled sleep.

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The body in early
September does not

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seek warmth, but rather the
weight of woolen assurances.

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