Silk White Glove Poem by ENO SUTRAMAN

The Absent fumbles in the pockets of surrounding darkness
For crumbs of stale and forgotten love,
But even mortal dust is scarce there, where steel vault glum
- Surety against so much of rainy days and scum.
"Carry only as much of mortal dust of tears that shadow of your death can trust"
Whose words are these? Can't remember between my absence, presence and the past...
The Present gold presents the smears, poison of it's production, you loved so much, it's Caste,
The Present Table of Elements sterile of may be quota OF Sterling Love- what's here on display?
The auction Christi's Curio -two thousand Anno Dove -
Memento Mori but bid your first and last
Anno Domini on sale- diamond all over lust,
Buy from your absent presence- both your future and past
cell phone, bid number highest -silk white glove
Embrace and kiss the absent love.