At Art (if Even)

@ArtofEvan:
As usual a crawler-readable microfiche sized version below.

Because.  What it says.

To the Art (If Even) from a female Faust

from where I sit in sunlight virtual 

(Isn't this where we came in?)

evil seems -- somehow unreal --

(all that your flight has been)

evolving are we we are still

(Discipline -- Indiscipline)

from where I sit in sunlight

this making of an everything so better 

(the real relation, the underlying theme)

is not the first of my recognizing

(I'm afrain we'll have to improvise)

will yet: have, had, been, will, be, is 

(preparing Maximum Surprise)

in some times yet returning favor.

in all the vast web, there at once we fit though few

(I am you and what I see is me)

before my reason able, but unwilling can decide

( Indiscipline) ...( Discipline)

you see what is this this that is and befriend it too 

(All life is forwards you will see)

before between yet look again, to contemplate it, view

from where I sit in sunlight actual

(any morning, any evening, any day)

evil barely evil still

(gold and silver shine)

this here, this now, this, can we, will

(everybody everybody everybody tries)

from where I sit in sunlight

the its all goodness that this it may actually be

(You can be scared when it gets too real)

a dosed and holy intuition becomes a sometime moment brimming 

(someday, lets be a pair of trees)

with the promise of summer, hours listening to the city 

(a gazeless stare, at all the millions here)

which daydreams all around me now for miles

its how all evens have been gotten how all made men are made

(People forget)

the course of history unconvincing a charade

(See the future Leaking through See the person who once was)

you: an evidentiary fractal metonymy of scale

(where is the what if the what is in why)

not only being able, but also counting, counting on

a summer house in the universe next door

(the lengths that I will go to, the distance in your eyes)

all from the same seen and seeing

(these things do not remember you)

the web of society, like the bones in your hand

(see that we should never be afraid to die)

is the on purpose done by a friend --

from where I sit in sunlight spiritual

(the questions of thousands take flight)

evil only dreams a fable --

(but you can learn how to be you in time)

  where the solving's easy, problems grace

(inviting and inciting me to rise)

from where I sit in sunlight

Be seeing you.