Mothlet-like owl midges fizzling in and out of the waves that shuffle the moon's shed reflection, hovering and imitating like a wettened rorschach--
with disembodied tiny teeth for feet suckling from the scurvy gums where shadows are allowed to be kings.
Kings that observe a godess body that spans the whole sky with ******* made of crinkled ash dripping latex that falls then cuts into the grass to spread life--perfection spares no time for the impatient.
Glistening stream,mucky dewlap of the mountain carving a caricature of someone praying for rain and dreaming of a metamorphoses into ice.
With the night comes tide. Comes time. Comes death. Comes life.
If you were to sit down in one spot anywhere in the world and not move for another second of your life
from there on in-- you would see so much beauty and pain You'd wonder what you ever did to be