the way veins creep through glass installations
painting intricate paths along pores.
the arrows on the maps of seaward treasure
confusion of her grace,
winding, intertwining, beneath sheets
of egyptian encouragement.
everything is white today
a haze of skin that refuses to feel the honey touch
the pollen of her shadows
somehow glow upon the erosion of manatee hypnosis.
she dances with waves,
salting wounds of childhood,
of graves painted silver with jeweled rebellion.
nectar is sweet like summer
he pours it all over her skin
so that it glistens with her gem eyes.
goodnight, my love,
i am real again
secrete my many, many sins.