See,
None of cottony optics,
Skimming soft tissues,
For pollutants on swimming eyes.
Dissuade,
To leaving sleeping innocence,
As a silhouette,
Lavished by the curtains down.
Outside,
A whirring static,
Underwater sounds.

Who will gather the pieces,
For a sweetheart.
Filtered through amber bottles,
Of honey-speckled moonbeams.
Curled fetus style,
In puddles of obsidian.
It can't be me,
I was left curbside of a floating castle.
Hunted with gabbling bullets,
With their own tongues.
And biting at lobes,
As they barked past.

If you see,
With no obstructions,
By flowery oriental screens,
My staggering paper doll,
Pass on:
The feverish spoon,
Was stirring,
An impossible raspberry leaf.