dusky
skies amid its twilight
overcome
by innocence, as it
dwells,
as it sings.
the
fabric is made of silk, its armor is made of humanness, its time is blurry, iridescent,
too much to palm.
we’re
connected, made disconnected, polished, buffed, made of buoyancy.
into
strata, each layer, rubescent colors, filthy iron, contemporary tribes.
skies
are dusky amid twilight
overpowered
by attraction, as
pain
drills castles.
searching
out weather, trying for a forecast, made into a forest.
such
as not, whereas, a remedy, such as not, ask for accreditation; tawny eyes,
saber trims, more passion in this person; filmed in souls, grievous in agonies,
so close, it churns, it’s made of violence; so soft, it confuses, so stern, it
feels parental, aching in silence, so organic in texture.
into
a sage’s words, a python’s mouth, a caiman’s genetics; so much endeavor, so
treasured on ice, much more essence as it dissipates—or flourishes, ever
growing, marriage has much to expose about eternity.
