(Snow-Flake) (Dream-Girl) #2

black dust spreads like perfect ash
from that red spot in you hair.
i sing the angles and speak
to
angels and heaven flies away.

tongue pulses, eye flinches
echoes shoot through my spine.
To
hold
you bare,
to let witness—my holy affair.

tattered bones quench on
mint
and honey
rosebud water drops—
from your eyelashes
and your milk touch.

black dust spreads like perfect ash
from stale smoked cigarettes,
from lipstick urns,
for my imperfect thoughts
to divide factions.

the bowed leaf,
the arched stem curve—
battery-operated-vowel-gland:
enhances the last-breath-caption
of this period.