These smallest most iridescent Lolitas
Held a needling scream inside their mouths
The air a microscope looking over the deep hidden glimmering tiger’s teeth
You’re getting fatter accent still slow as snowflower
Holding high the weird collecting net, the streetlamp
To make the tryst in a specimen volume
A microscopic passion is always pouncing on sketches of wings
Always twisted & broken left behind in an emptied room
Next to every poet is a Tamara, dancing flying
Like powder brushed off a daydream Uncle
A butterfly is sometimes more difficult to understand than a catastrophe
Your blissful shouting & high style is not so innocent
Turn the page the bullet heading straight for the father is locked in the air
And hatching to become the colorful textbook the same snow still falling
The dead in orbiting flutter around the pistil of youth
And the eyes in the photos staring on the longest moment
It’s sure not enough to fly to the age of sky
You must learn to be the pages of a book to molt the human skin
Then to recognize the exquisite cosmic explosion from a single egg
The past, a daisy that hugs you tightly
Tamara always carries trees lightly darker tremulously beating wings
The transmutation you cherish elegantly laid down in layers
Holding up the world in its mouth nailed on high by a needle
A tiger roars indifferent to deaf-mute memory
