IV.
Their pardons are meticulous underbellies
wombats caught in caring
a mandala shaded there,
right there, in the thorns
like some wholesome verdant furioso
glued to its specifics like
so many before them
An emblem
an old tourniaquet untwisted
every healed memory afterwards
handfuls and handfuls of opals
and nights
V.
Inflammable peripheries
To the milk days
Torture music
for the juggernaut
A judas where one was needed
Texture, their texture
Immutable Trapeze
Intentions personified into
Travelling ministers with eyes the size of carnivals
Brilliant grandathers still
Spilling in the act of contrition
Abominable rivulets
washing through limes
Through the pompadours and moustaches
of vainglory
Survival's truces with
or without
VI.
A curious parade of actualities
going from sleep to sainthood
in a single step
Their own
There is no cure for depth
no shelter from the ledge
no pharoah without an arrow
no priest without his sparrow
and song
however grim from within the flask
He has only to ask for another sip
and her hips will move like camels
All curves and handles
Her form's been worn to death
yet still he has the breath
to ask
until the blue sun
rises
VII.
The devil branded him fool, liar
everything fire could touch
but even the devil himself
cannot make a butterfly
rush
Not when he saw
laws to their waters
and was willing to drown
and feel the blur
As he left her
As he left this world
for her
VIII.
she had only
to walk those same hallways
shards insinuating underfoot
with the ashes and soot
of her many candled nights
with lost june on her lips
and pain in her hair
she would never dare go bare again
never know his blessed caress
against her new black dress
A surreal funeral
offering may, offering july
but not a single day
between
IX.
no one left to thank
for the softness of lilacs
for the plates of juniper
and salamanders
for the teas and pumpkins
well beyond their years
for the nightshade rosettes
and rosaries
for the gentle opals
and miracles
for the milky rivulets
so like tears they taste
for the ease
of stepping off balconies
like some flying trapeze
and falling thorugh the breeze
into sainthood
Again.
