Gian Lombardo


Perhaps it's the wall that begs me to pay attention to its miraculous instructions.

While it's always possible to misinterpret, there hasn't been a rash of misgivings with which to indulge.

If, by chance, nothing's been forgiven, there's no reason to rush into a garden luxuriant in forgetfulness.

Maybe that's all that needs to be followed — for what's been rendered has also been divided, with each division a tiny step on which to perch.

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