Spiderwebs strung between your fingers
So beautiful, like a work of poetry-
Like a piece of fine art-
Maybe you were drawn by Leonardo
Da Vinci, on everlasting papyrus.
Brought to form in the rich ink of M.C.
Escher, on creamy sheets.
Colored with the vibrant tones of Vincent
Van Gogh, on dull canvas.
You search the depths of unreality
In the mirror dimension, where you were
Fused to your skeleton-
Bone fused to muscle
And muscle fused to skin
It was the process of making a monster
Yet, you have all the glory-
The heavenly host locked up in your eyes
Stuggling in the current of your electric
Bloodstream, your body was built
By a thousand diamond planets
By a hundred dazzling anvils
By a dozen shining warriors
Under your soft exterior, you harden
Inside, along your ribcage
The hands of nature have clasped you
Hold yourself upright, so that I can see
The wrinkling and twinkling
You have thus despised beneath
Long enviable lashes and dark arches
Along a mathematical curve
Lips as full as the moon tonight
I think you were made by gods
Empty dreams and foolish promises.