Abysmal boy with beautiful lanterns
eyes promised to nowhere that have mapped the highlands
the syrup of lasses unconquered
glass diners breaking open into lit streets
with only the flow intact
butterfly hands that have found their longing
swooping phones on the head from a sky wire
tears that have turned to copper coins
mirrors that clamor for their footprint slash
he shines the windows between seasons
that have warped each other's borders into ramps.