Tuesday, July 05, 2016

A surfeit of breathing actors, on a tidal wave,
strutting the slope of death.
Iris black pupils dancing from
skirt to skirt, in great height
the years that pass between us
leaving weight.  Purple outcropping
reaches hope in a flying saucer's
wall, its hub of inhuman echoes
friendlier than time.  Unharmed sectors
open up to the dark of cool night.
to be lit with balls of water.
Courses flow with broken partners
sand is crystallizing eyes that nudge
the rooted side of all flags.

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