in a beam of purple light
a boomerang of knives
that reflects in returning eyes
kingdoms of salt towers
fractured by a breeze of dreaming bones
aloft in taut machinery
all drunk on the mouths in their foreheads
peaks lost in propeller speech
betraying boiled blood
what wings of water surfaced
from that burnished lake
below the burning battle that became
a vampiric myth
beseeched by souls of molten caverns
to fly through zones without mercy
the way the births of angel's curses
take a blistered course.
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