The pearl of interval, the still of yet,
poises momently, balancing the bend
and wave, slip, slope, and sine the seconds send
vertiginous minutes, airy with forget,

pale with height. The pause-pearl jewels the net,
an aleph-iris callowing portend
as though the present were its livid end
and blanch the blink that dazzles every debt.

It is its instant. Perfect circle, skull.
Bliss in statis, suspension at the swell;
interiority of gaze that frames

and fixes, finishes, the flux of names;
the hull the stall effulgent--scale and shell
and opal effigy, adequate of null.

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Karen Volkman