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Mike A Eyslee Feb 13
alone in a dark room and i(
our beating ventricles
shoved between red and amber d  a nc ing
plumes of swishing sHApEs

(to the fig of the fig tree
and to the fig tree of the fig)

ones from myworld or
perhaps yourworld
here only wisps a hot cinnabar

dance may others
joyous of tune and wonderful of off-key
and bright of you of you of you

the secret with us is lu (empty) ng
no sway please
only dot on no (erasure)

don't look
remain the page
keep it steady

hide it from the light of day)

sigh in my chest

— The End —