I’d catch a balloon
And set free to the sky
To watch with diamond eyes
And lust with child lies

The heart’s of gods
Made of gold
Are scattered on my lips

Molten fireflies daunt the poised embers of cancer fire
Chlorophyll is glowing
Spoiled are the rots in the larva casket

Sensational paws nettle the log belly’s chipping sheets

Gypsy moths barbarize moss decorations on the forest face

Graffiti animals are feasting on star flowers

In the animal imagination, strawberry thirst lingers

Here, the buffalo have gathered, tempted by the living harvest of buried planets.

Put on my honey face mask
And sit behind the sun
See silver lined harmony
And a noose of diamond eyes

I’ve been dreaming

To throw a bird at the sky
And watch it fall
Into a pond of stars

For each hole in my tongue
To be occupied
By the milk of the sun

Boiling a death proof to be well
Yes, I’ve been well

The amorous remedy likens the lie
That you should be here

Forever maybe, I’ll hold as rust

If I were with you on Christmas we would go sit on a low bank of the black muddy river, wondering why it’s so cold but not frozen. We’d drink hot chai tea with soymilk and share frosted secrets. You might say something like, “Ducks love to watch people in love sit on benches and throw stale bread into their reflections.” I would pinch your side and feel you rippling and think about how beautiful you’d look asleep with rose petals over your eyes or stars around your neck. Your breathing as my own, we’d exhale constellations and I’d say yours looks like a peacock. A snowflake might land on your nose and I’d think, hey maybe if it’s ok with the season I could kiss you and the world might still turn alright.