Of flamingo plumage
An open doorway
Guarded by cherry blossoms
The sweetest noise
Of surrender, an olive branch
Two feet orbited by floored lace
And two eyes, witnesses of heavens grace
And in converge, They are like swans
In a neckwrap, blurred by lust
They make sounds, never heard before,
Like a stone making concentric ripples.
And bathed in pristine dew,
You are like a blade of lush grass in the wind
And soon, those orbitals will fall
And all that will remain
Is the afterglow, teeth, like polished
Chess pieces basking in the glory
Of a victory, that like the molten sugar
Pulverized out of sugarcane,
Drips out through the honey combs.
While the bees are still droning around.
The hull breaks into splinters
And the termites that schemed her escape
Fly out like a swarm of locusts. The candle
Becomes wax, time turning timeless
The spaceless moment, rifts apart
Into their own continental land forms
And you’re now the inverse
Of where you started from
An emptied bowl, whose face
Shimmers brighter than the full moon.