Coagulation
Wound those buried
with the toothed crack
of sky. A thread
of buttercup cream
tinted silver
rips the alpine
cottony edges.
A biscupid fuse
pushes the cerise
stream through the veins,
its navigation
nourished by
sweet citrus heavens;
wash of Summers,
green leaves, gardens. Lust
flush like a silk shawl
embroidered
with a pearly flame.
The storm lambastes
sunlight colored
windows that cast
an embrace into
our wintered dusk,
beryl tones of which
absorb the shaded
portrait of loss.
Zoetic flags drowned.
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