there are no precursory glances

when powder-puffs of lime are

thrown against an expired wind.

scolded for the fifth time--for not

vowing ether.

as matrimonial frills wrap around

solved bones.

undivided as houses sealed shut,

where karma ensures everyone has

dinner together.

shoe boxes depicted cosmic

happenings at science fairs,

in elementary school.

in a gymnasium--where the

fairest one of all was washed

out of the eye of obscurity.

intuition may not just be a word.

nor any other--because they never

stop doting over those shoe boxes.

with sparkling

skeletal fingers, stars

free themselves--

from imperceptible

black cages.

as planetary atmospheres

hang like wanted signs.

during their solitary act

of escape, they know they'll

evade capture.

reverberating thralls of

nonentity.

as parks take very long walks

of their own, spring can't seem

to recover from Her confession.

way up there with an extremely

changeable blue, entangling Siamese

twin kites.

where she devours color--dragging

out fresh kills offering life.

what's plain sight of a clap of thunder--

over riled steads of land.

then comes the softest rain of be-fanged

Buddhas slipping from branches.

downed and open mouthed--keeling over,

to resemble what is Realized.