From clay, to coal, to diamond, onto glittered dust that floats away…
a wish upon the lips of god and mangled smile of death…
a billion bodies rotting on its tongue, a forked and flickered flame
hissing through dimensions where the likes of us are kept.
Condensation into cloud, back to rain, condense again…
a simple sketch of dreams that live outside of shape and form…
countless decomposing leaves as wreathes atop of dead beliefs
which time decays and rearranges till the next is born.
Such are we, the sum of this, the taste of god’s too cryptic lips,
a song that’s sung by serpent tongues splitting either way…
dust of diamond, skin of pearl, the sparkled sheen that coats the world,
caught beneath a pile of leaves and poems of muted waves.