opened like a flame upon a fingertip

Opened like a flame upon a fingertip, and collapsed beneath the
blue
euphoria of your name, your rain pangs
sex
sex
sex
onto the
roof of the dump-
ster of this earth splashing in a mud mad hissing spectrum of boiling water—your shadow
shapely and wonderful
against the blooming sunset, here, now, present, future, gone, my tongue scrapes
these purple rose petals for the
honeybee’s golden powder dilemma—cottonwood falls—the thing is you are so beautiful, I could string together
your tears
to make pearls, an explosion of your irises has me pinching glass shards
from face lips and forehead, like a nighthawk’s unquenchable longing for the sky, you are
so madly beautiful, you are so madly beautiful, I am a pin-drop shadow sprinting across a continent of ice, I am
a rainbow oblivion swirling backwards through a prism, I see, in your
face, a crystal ball, I see rifles crying
BANG
BANG
BANG
I soar across the strawberry desert of your navel, phases of the moon, tattered moondresses of silver and mustard, the Mojave and her gentle sand wilderness, quartz-aligned gorges, the Gobi, the Andes, the Himalayas, I hang
upside-down and salivate, your innerhands on other planets trace my eyesockets, your
warmblooded whispers, your warm blooded dawny ivory kingdom of dreams