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bathed in cinnamon and pearl, you feel again the porcelain eaves strain a-gainst a 'cosm full of wind and weaving grain.

patterns in the undertow, melted light is dripping dripping, phosphor touch, white-blue rain, fire with every splash.

sawdust and ribbons, skies lap winnowed gaps along these dropped fruits, clacking rasps of ill-burrowed winds.

nothing here but brushed cotton, shadows with no edges, luminescent soft-box smoothness.

sawdust and ribbons, skies lap winnowed gaps along these dropped fruits, clacking rasps of ill-burrowed winds.

nothing here but brushed cotton, shadows with no edges, luminescent soft-box smoothness.

patterns in the undertow, melted light is dripping dripping, phosphor touch, white-blue rain, fire with every splash.

rivets tack her down, aloft along the rafters, frozen eyes, frosted glass, worms trembling far below.

patterns in the undertow, melted light is dripping dripping, phosphor touch, white-blue rain, fire with every splash.

nothing here but brushed cotton, shadows with no edges, luminescent soft-box smoothness.

sawdust and ribbons, skies lap winnowed gaps along these dropped fruits, clacking rasps of ill-burrowed winds.

rivets tack her down, aloft along the rafters, frozen eyes, frosted glass, worms trembling far below.

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