in this world of orchards mound,

exalted thoughts and want unbound

i will lasso the stars and bring them to your fingers

soak them with rose water as they linger

but i’m not real

a phantom seal

of grey dust before the sun

a fallen orange peel

"and when you feel,

it will **** you every time”

a fatal light peeking through nimbus clouds

deep azure, tears collecting in the fount

i will stir the halcyon seas epochal

pour them in the fountain of past festivals

but i’m not real

a trembling hand, puerile,

before a golden web spun

to the ring of a peal

"and when you feel,

it will **** you every time”