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| globe of this tiny amphora, this ampoule for perfume scored by a comb in the molten bottle: fountain strands of sea-green jade and sea-light opal in sheaths of fire remelt, re-fuse to new luster in which bubbles shift and drops of vapor, sealed in glaze, at each angle catch light--catch light! That cry-- annihilation made, outbound forever till it hits your eye and ends, a green glow, all you see, extinguished starlight, starlight only. Focused by stone, cleaved, bruted, brilliant-cut. No stone like that exists, before 1600. No world--until us--in chains of glass, hostage to signal: |
