Is a crystal
feathering here
moth-burrowed vellums
gather insouciantly
down its long corridor
Piano music and wet skin
frame cavernous dreams
rendered cataracts
Glass blossoms hewn without ceremony
Colour unmade,
stippled from apprehension
from lasciviousness
darning a subaqueous ladder of hues
,flashes transcendentally
Imagined ‘scapes form vagrant kingdoms
where stile and crooked bough
along sinuous tracts
linger inchoate
charming the eye
Discarding tarragon cellophane
chrysanthemum beads
for loose chimes
their scented aria
through exiguous fronds of breath
lovers throb in timbreless delirium
A pale offering exhumes the dusky path beyond
scabrous lots disembodied
windless
The night is a phoenix
pruning the billows of Time
caught between meadows
lighted by gems.
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