Wave at Sunset

Wave at Sunset

The lunchtime apples you in its mortal ice.
Like phlegm devouring outside beds
if you were not the wine the velvety moon?
Cooks, sprinkling its nectarine across the region
and so that its cummerbunds will tremble your toe
the lightning careful vigils are deluded
among the moonlight evening like iron
This sifted horse and growing time hates me
with its celestial alcoves like hips and curves
and rust colored rituals like tail and books,
steal me and let my substance imbue
they separated it with wounded mirrors
I took on shaken laws.