Stoned from the middle eye
centered in a suspension of mercury
and sifting through dune darkness
the combustion as medium
hits a point of placid aquiescence
in the tornadic antigravity of
Under bathwater rain,
you hold back the river
with a bolt from the blue.
More than the altruistic levity of a wistful recline
we change and are changed
waiting for a resurfacing that cuts through the cyclone.
The burial used to commemorate them,
and cosmically undisturbed.
Hope costs nothing,
is, that true?
Wait and see for free will to be a myopic illusion.
Within the severity of the palette
slick reflections imbue self-deception
into the ambiguous arrangements of space and color,
presenting objects through
the presence of their absence.
The land of laws in a Lawless Land
inundates the Woman in the Dunes
to flood, grow, trade,
for the influence to,
the abstracted continuation of her single thought.
The wave of effacing narcissus slowly
blooms and pervades the early fog
asking, to be healed is a very mysterious thing.
and burned everything I loved and hated to the ground
I got up and filled my heart with water
and had it slowly turn to ice
so more flames would just turn it back to water
but the water lifted into air
and it was weightless
like I never had a heart at all