I see a radiant world coming out
from the black core between
the yellow petals of a susan
flower. I see from the charcoal heart
a silver glitter, fragments from
deep through the stem deep
through the whole round earth and out
the other side and far beyond
into a universe being drained
to collapse
its off-white purity
like a new bedroom being killed
with echoes.

I see a girl in multi-colored dress
(though these colors are like
no other shade I've seen
in gardens of before) stepping out
from the center of the flower, and as
she carefully avoids stepping on
a praying mantis she moves towards me,
her every freckle and cell a healing
particle, her flesh-petals apart
from all other plants, she holds me
to my roots in the earth, that grow
beyond the earth, my eyes that look
from behind my eyes and all around
the goldenrod twitch
from dry season to dry season
until they begin to bleed
their own version of water.

The shingles turn to creature skin,
the creature they are is new
under a new sky, we are tortured
by our happiness, I see
the glint near and intimate, of
the girl's world melting down her eyes
the girl's world melting down her dress,
the girl's world is my hands, these
other objects are my hands, also she lives
in all the things that connect, I die
to all the things that disconnect.