The architecture of an aunt Made the child dream of cupolas, Domes, other smoothly rounded shapes. Geometries troubled his sleep. The architecture of young women Mildly obsessed the young man: Its globosity, firmness, texture, Lace cobwebs for adornment and support. Miles from his aunt, the old child Watched domes and cupolas defaced In a hundred countries, as time passed. A thousand kilometres of lace defiled, And much gleaming and perfect architecture Flaming in the fields with no visible support.