Realms of Reality

Such purple eyes, woodblock vows, even turquoise

memoirs. I love you in but moments, given to science.

Come out the margins, my love, tame a whirlpool.

I trespass, a tattooed fleece, swollen with pride. You

stand so afar, a mere figment comprised of my longings.

We dance so sullen, featured in reality, a concert mind.

I love you in but moments, where we escape, found

in a neighbor’s eyes. I feel conquered, love, refusing

wealth, a rising myth. You gesture with such poise,

swaying thoughts, unborn and living. I see you in purple

eyes, green thorns, and russet suns. How about a movie,

my heart, a cinema of prose? But what is this life, the

arms of another, framed in your characteristics: how do

I ponder left? I ask, where an answer resounds your name.

It was ever of yore. You lived so long ago: a tribal queen,

even Isis. I feel you, a billion women, an anklet rose.