Encoding the window, entering before I’ve even thought permission had words. I just can’t, try as I might, get over it, Heaven again. BLUE INSISTENCIES And now, it’s taken hold inside all things my study knows, chair, table, desk, each an aperture once I open my vision. Even this page, these little words rungs of ascent, rickety, improvisational, bartered or stolen, still of good use, sure celestial intention. All right, I’ll confess. There are the usual angels, cherubim, and seraphim.