Aurora and aurora and aurora. It may lie on top of the page as the rising light of the morning, or the dawn of the day, or the redness of the sky only just before the rising of our star. The first connecting lines, making something new appear. A word related to another. Joins, to lier (to join, connect) and the homophony. A blank space colored in and made to sound itself imploy. And moment to moment, it is like this. Only something partial. Movement, motion, influence. A minute portion of time. A part of something. Moist. Naturally or constitutionally wet. As when. Turned on. Moved. Saturated. Marked by a discharge. Fucked. Low colloquial. Potently amorous. Fuckster. Addict. Fud. Lying in the region. Pubes, pube, pubescent, as on the surfaces of leaves and stems, or else the bodies of books. The pages saturated, dense. A design of sorts of mind and heart and mood. That indomitable conquering in quivers. Tremor, a sudden, a case for carrying arrows, radiance.
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