Estranged angels

of lost fates,

lovingly banished

to walk their circuits alone.

Ice dancing in synchronicity

eyes of a falling forest

crying out for parallel stars.

The canyon's rims

dripping with orange fire.

Walls in their tears of glass

are bulbs breaking outward.

Where do I sit

to watch my luxurious death

while the rain fall

of bodies and shark torn ships

follows me up

to the highest void?

How should my implanted sorrows

grant me to suffer?

Only the slip

that undresses time,

the yellow flower.

Crown of the sky's king

giving way to lips that whisper

and the solemn rock parting grass

a dog shaped vapor turning.