The waterways of breathing
A spiral shark arriving in wind
Whose face is a bird swarm
That brings a group of footsteps
To a fantasy of sea
The trails of curtained eyes
Sugared in knee slivers of formal paint hats
Whose lips kiss space wells
Where the connecting spark
Lathers its foothills of slow flood
The songs of an old river
The wild woods where a tree-creature
Shaped like a crescent moon wanders
With a smile in the aurora of secret eyes
This river's scent creates the dissappeared
The flickers of moments whose noses caress woodpeckers
Whose loud mouths end in a claw
For toy carts full of sand and colorful blocks
The flying feathers of go-kart horse
Theaters of chains of unmet needs
The stricken streets of magenta moths crisped in dumb hotels of bowls
floating
Eight caraffes of swords
Whose tiny glitter scatters the tall nests of bison storms
The April cords of coned smoke that wishes in a skull
To hang a mountain across the wave of forms
A fading wall to kiss activates the concealed nuance
Whose polished keys combine caustic saliva
With whirled keys that sleep under the ground
Where rain gets a drink
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