Such an eros to be beyond eros by denial of eros must fail. Desmond

New Year’s Eve. I stop

by the pond out of habit

only to be stopped

by transparency.

Cold daylight calmly addressed

my absolute self

and broke it open.

Winter cannot contain de-

sire. The restlessness

of naked sunlight

is divine. Surprise, surprise:

Loneliness wheels o-

verhead, a gull lost

in the deep horizon of

our bright finitude.