You've got that red fire

that I want on my tongue

you sculpt ponds

into orbs of dark light

and globes for the heads

of soothing scepters

you animate

the dining rooms

of the dead

with electric scars

and lay down

laminated aisles

for storms to flow in rows

and forms to find their vegetable matter

I dream of a dock

where dreams are finally fellated

in moonlight dream

like a lover of unmapped planets

dream with the yeast in my head

for the bread of my brain

hot bitch swollen

with the milk of my seed

drowning in daylight

drowning in the lightning script

of a metallic morning

drowning in the dreams of the damned

who sacrifice for a phantom

branches of space travel

are a tunnel of Christmas wreaths

and the trees on their wings are flying

when your desire brings my bones

to their desired end

staring upward into the infernal nexus

your beauty on stakes of rain

in the graveyard of my wars

a cabin for flowing water.