Tower
She is a salt tower, a beacon stood
On thimble cliffs and gulfs of giant steps
Swallowing her apple core and flooding
Night with a mouthful of demons
Lighting the way to perfection
As she overshadows her own alliances
She is manipulating the tide like apron strings
She dragged along the parents like puppetry
And broke her Versailles to achieve nothing at all
Bursting into luminescence, a North Star edging
To a stable alive with arsenist whisper and
Melancholy echoes of skipping songs and nicknames
Open eyes look, a stream of black seeping beneath
And around ivory fingers, cold penetrating to the bone
A brush stroke of hair moving with jellyfish grace
Hush. The steel womb passing over paper trails and
Ink, a giant whale with stomach stacked full of plankton men
Searching out a siren for an Ariel but darkness brings the rocks
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