A rounded globe milky white in the center, crispier as it travels northwards
to the heaven
A valley of bones, Brittle with tightly stretched skin, a dark path

The night sky
speckled with brown
and dusted with roses
Softly contouring, dipping, dancing flowing up, up like a river backwards

Gentle curves and sharp inclines,
fiercely calm plateaus
waiting for you to catch
your breath

And finally
a bud of dusky muted midnight,
grabbed and forgotten
Left to be broken