Here is the idea of the beautiful:
This poisonous child of Indifference.
This devastating flame in the ferns.
This incomprehensible orange
Exquisitely peppered with ash.
God is not dead. He’s just been born!
He’s still only in the smallest details,
In the dark eyes and delicate feet
Of this moist and luminous wanderer.
This fire you stoke with a tear.
This dream on your palm. This eft.