I turn a floor as level is less orbital than some rooms, if a hall as labyrinth & alcove niche a hyacinth, the skylit octagon astream the pleiades brief hour’s return, & still I wait an age
Poetry
I turn a floor as level is less orbital than some rooms, if a hall as labyrinth & alcove niche a hyacinth, the skylit octagon astream the pleiades brief hour’s return, & still I wait an age