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When I see my corpse
on the earth's floor, soaked in radium
petals snuff the time clock
I had three dreams from red to sepia
kissed days separated by black curtains
dropped 100, 000 light bulbs on a polished stage
while you were whispering in a snakeskin orb
the fiber optics of discarded hair
two guns and two sets of lipstick on the breakfast table
shouting over the overpass from separate convertibles
curtains ignited with stage-safe fire
two couples throwing dinner plates at one another
and not laughing
linoleum curling like a wet rose

scorched day serves no empire
I hold up the discs, our sun's multicolored representatives,
all that's needed is the rustle of unwritten pages
to hold the clouds in place with many sets of pincers
to let these cafe tables melt into the sea
and the kitchen shrink a tunnel to afterlives
through the bread and the knife
skylight cracked by a running guitar
the empty frames adorned with crystal light deposits
shelves lined with miniature forests
I descend on pulleys in jeweled drag
looking for a prehistoric shape
in the far warp of your iris