Bolted digits, rootbound to acrid heavens,
ostrichly I swallow sand, begging the heaviness
to parch my flaming veins and ceaselessly flowing sorrows.
Sparrow’s fleeting raison d'être, sipping eyes of iceberg hue,
quenching mine own of verdant leaf; long-awaited view
to fill my soul’s windows’ empty absinthe pools.
No somber adieus, simply one smile of lightning.
His passing thunder will resound beneath my ribs
from the arrows of his glacial spheres
forevermore.