To Paris: from Stockholm

…whiplash eyes you

hide your whiplash eyes, Paris,

and stayed epoch is so unyielding.

years too long to bear

when horizons stay bare too long…
 

Time more Thief

than beggar

trammeled by

your pattern…

Quantum entanglement…

eclipsed by daily rotations

(distance, too)

a Substantial miss

when matching energy

once so Near—

recedes…

carried off

in unprecedented

3rd tide

that salted waters

with Death…

Now frosted lip crashes

on mossier gold,

on hidden, Opaque reef

that cuts obliquely, but to the Heart.

Vivisecting Carnation

a petal-strewn Idol…

spuming its surplus catch

into plurality.