la fleur

subtle moons awake
like the dream flow
of her lips
intricate in increments

the noon day sun
rises over the city
tiling the ground
and overcoming
the slick filth of night

and this vivid globe
fades over the hillside
unfolding into shadows
that were burned
to the ground in black

slow dreams bloom
as gentle streetlights
glow from her lips
emblazoning paths

I'm a certain animal
drawing in these eyes
breathless in perfection
towering in burmese spires

there are unimaginable sermons
in her myriads that waltz
as succulent fruits
fall from the vine

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