I've might've

seen a dust

kicked up in

such a way...

that

its desert  floats

on water.

finding the walk

on that water too prosaic.

these beaded chandeliers

of a very hard

rain pop out the

twinkle of a color

from branches.

stolen from the riches

of a Queen, handed

back with both hands.

as threads stream

across a fetching

web...unburdened

by dreams as flies

nose in.

leaves are softening

their handprints from

a forgotten fall.

juice climbs a tree

with no sound on it.

no skeleton is craven

while held up to a

season.

as rain is unhatched,

startling roofs with

a knock that partook

in what came before

sound.

I lie none the wiser...

to an imploding

aquarium.

a neatly contained

flood in another

tongue.

the muscle memory of

bed sheets are starving

to death.

they keep being pulled

off of their own accord--

one night at a time.

they receive adjustments.

unhousable adjustments.

worshipping a structure

so far from home.

direction remade from

directionlessness.

encompassed memory

devoid of bone.

there are ways in which

things are happening...

that should round off to

another sphere.

an: O of breath.

blown by a crystallized

little girl...

with a rattling halo

settling like a soundless

coin.

watching that rounded off

sphere bubble clear off

her freedom-land.

shaping up to her wish.