Can I pull myself out of my own shadow; from some meta, superstructural rabbit hole of
cocoa darkish velvet?

I try
to pull my soul by the nose
out of the mirrors
of my pelvis

I go up the seraphic
forever-wed staircase;

It’s all
sewed with wedding bands;
it’s a
moonlight pantheon            ,

upholstered in
bottle ∆blond∆[¢land]∆est∆[ine] gold
and opulent sunrise yellows.

It rounds bends like a baby-
soft helix of satiny DNA;
a strain of.          singular.      

(bottle blondestclandestine

Here, the sky materializes
in a rush of shamanic violet;

waves of mauve sky fleet
towards beaches of
frosted glass, their
frozen time’s sands
glitzy and illumined
by black lights.


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