Here is Nabokov,
the lepidopterist.
What source?
He pursues "names of the real".
Can he resist inversion?
Will he lean or lift?
lycaeides melissa loves lupinus perennis.
Lost?
Lost.
A possible parallel here to
( gogh gogh )
extirpated
sound,
sight.
Are the common silences
discard,
debri,
or,
in another
dreamlife,
abundance?
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