Her fast jade eyes
recorded in tinctures
subtle even whispers
now clouded and dull
ached by tired sighs.
Sparked by chance
she peers over the
walls observing the
clean swept quiet of
silence.
Lost in the tension of a taught
first bloom that opened slowly
vestiges now compressed under
a backwards lying book whose
pages hold of vast geological
black and whites lay records
unseen now viewable primal
touch and first kiss lucidly
recorded with return address.
Like exotic ships lost in the sun
still carrrying their passengers
wave to breathing foam from ocean's
depth the globes rise and breaking
the surface are quickly inhaled.
.
