Here are yellow curves,
orange cubes, a floor of suede
and dimmed reflections on the floor,
marbled. The stairs drop
like a Jacob's ladder. One wall
is shapely, the other bricked;
trios of lights harmonious,
seven suns, black-and-white and glorious.
Columns hold up the ceiling
like verbs, attached to phrases
at both ends. Speckles and
moving squares like adjectives,
decorative, and I can sit on these
nouns as if they were couches
and chairs. The walls glassed.
(Language, here, is glassed.)
A hushing building, the air filled
with invisible words, unyelled.
