little dragons scuttle in the barn and Neptune deceives a comet.
Spring is all the carousels rolled into one balloon.
anthems and Time Bandits.
sharp loops in a spiral of deciduous Labyrinths.
groping for snow on a flame.
where the wrong gods go, you have all the whalesongs
and the honeycombs...
you have just enough actual delirium
to kiss a comatose Mirage.
with lips to polish a glyph of moonshine

in impossible medallions
of remorse.

on a Cliff.