so, this man, lost vigour claimed trust and for this truth saw visions.
racking, nightly: three times twelve stones laid: piles of three hidden, in recesses twelve deep
an elegant game, hand floating over challah as bearded figures burned oil for light talking politics straining wisdoms
before getting up to leave for the night this Abdullah, centuries after, would chew pistachio honey drink bitter coffee
the playing continued after he went gradually (becoming) less obvious (where obsession made pride) & guilt burned the fat.