A wisp of smoke,
an empty trail,
I used to follow you-
Up
to a place who’s brother
is an undisturbed rooftop
after the sky has given birth
to its million white children

with white castles
and blue ceilings,
gentle cold,
that penetrated my thin body
no air,
simple.

No harsh thoughts.
As a buddhist I would wander
catching the slowest of the feathery creatures
with long faces that came to a point
stroke them

The hidden outbursts of motion would send me sprawling
but I felt no pain
up there,
there were no houses,
just white castles
that formed and reformed

I think King Solomon once imagined a government like this
fluid,
what doesn't work
only crumbles into something that does

There were no cars
just invisible bodies
harmless but powerful
riders of the frigid and heated drafts

The only noise came from me
the single impurity
I cried out when I saw the white castles
filled with silent ivory people
that smiled but did not respond
I could see them talking with eyes
with more expressions than I have ever seen

Silently they spoke
swallowing the smoke that came from below