No Stout Passages

History in an appealed archway
Of palette now defense washes
Inside the abolished stone palace
Like timid, scorned, running reprisals
Forgiving in the retreat
With sword in hand
And paint on knees

History is a causeway
Like bones in the recipe
Where no borrowing takes place
No fragrant letters ever written
Stems of plentiful Peruvian lilies
Stalk the weathered approach
Where sundials are doors
To the absolving noise
And the receptacle of swollen art