let startle inlight, if not so lifted
in peregrination, a lavish seeing.
two eyes are worlds in
tippling axis.
taking deaths, a wreath would a candle,
a prayer would a body thumbed down
to wisdom our backbones break.
to see death like a rush of flowers.
great the sight of such illumination.
swiftly going to god's dark behemoth,
metaphysics of bone clenched—
darkling like obsidian
a complexing fault of road
as the same vein of Earth aspirates
the wind — whose exigent fire
cleaned her bones back to
pulchritude: her face a diamond
in the rough — never to speak
yet to clamber with summarization,
realness and revelations of roses.
for grandma Adoracion. May you rest in complete peace.
