Slabs of sweet blood

from the dawn sky

bright lit throats

from a patched planet's thatchwork

of roots and ghosts

in seminal gel.

Where the water talks

to broken bowls

and sand cracked channels

the shoreline is

a silk of neon gnats

kissed mute

by structured vapor.

Wind coil

where the tree frogs vomit

serenity's metallic creek.