You are glory
dressed in
profane skin
One day
you will
know that beauty
hides in shallow places
like the lie that is your face

But in time we beget
to mull over this
The shallow land
how it displaces us
and makes us
lame

There is no palate left
for the muted
with their whimsy hearts
and lofty wings...
Those unseen things
That dream in flesh
and stalk your breath
for bated air