The Breath of Dawn and the Breast of Mourning

Darkness descended:
Exeunt the illumined diamond,
Each facet a
swath of color bursting light
pools of radiant white
defined in the pit of your eyes,
the luster an elixir mixed
with the tragedy of

baby stars, who smoldered in the
drum of the night, the sun
a pulse drawn from the
breath of dawn toward
the breast of mourning—

Celestial
blood labor,
the last contraction a grimace unto red morning;

My
nerves swarmed open a batch of dragonflies,
one cosmic elation fluttering
on the wind of ten thousand
winged chills.

Water sprung from Aphrodite's fair foam,
wading into frogs and moss and salt-hair
from the great green thigh of the sea,

also

burst in tides of lavender,
and so heavily

the moon dripped onto the night, a huge white scythe
dipped inside the eternity of the pond, as
sweet and sorrowed as wine;

as delicious shards of flame
the art
raised my
nature
to my lips
and bade me Drink.