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The pineal aperture spills out
yellow and grey mountains
behind a sinking city's gelatin
someone making sandwich wraps at the foothold
exclaims that deep ice has cracked
in their head's rough center
the endpiece shines like waxed eternity

a dining room lonelier than a glacier
kiss of spines notched through a lip plate
approaches lashed together by leather shoelace
cut lettuce of eyes rifling
through fresh gaps in memory
where cube glass counters bury jewels
in bronzed wing falsities
eroding time left next to guardrail

The whole sacred cloak is a cluster of fingernails


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