by the glow of an opal,
set apart among spoons of ivory
and stained silk ceramic jars.
Twilight provoked by fire
surrounded like a ring of dancers
hands held twirling and kicking
around the shine
of her bluebird lipstick
hoops beside her crazy smile.
Form was a rash of stars
before she had it gathered
I waited by the windows of
her ship in many tides
nosing the aftermath
like a horizon's glider
hills of wheat and
dusk swollen with water
dark light for the queen of the plains.
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