Some narrow lilac, some feathered breath
some moment tread over with daylight,
with stamped cigarettes
The secret sanct of poets, intersect,  
*Sunset’s mother, cradling loosened
dandelions,
like Europa, sulfur ingénue,  hand woven clouds, tapestry *
I climb axe in hand like God’s mistake,
my dancing planet’s sands soaking wet
Time mishandling regret, respirations,
and Whiskey just takes and takes.