the setting sun was fleshy and bright
like a fresh-picked nectarine
straight off of the branches of the galaxy—
the stream of clouds above makes a stem
and a bright living leaf that soaks in
the stars above: i wish to take my fingers
and slip them around the fuzzy cool flesh
to pluck it roughly from the sky
and send this earth deeper and deeper
into eternal night
with my every selfish, moistly bite.

No comments:

Post a Comment