how expertly you cracked my shell
	and split from me the moment when
I knew regret, to see my kindred once
again, all crawl across a landscape of
	symbols and die an arid death
not alone, but
	fornicating with the sun

	Chroma


the honey-eater states:
"the year is almost through
and what holes have you filled
to protect yourself against
	the coming cold?"

the colorful one responds:
"only those whose food
will sustain me"
then I watched him leap away

	Waking

And so I was the God of your people,
	the promise of love
in unearthly places where walked my
feet unbidden, to peer on the world
with unblemished eyes
(two of which would comprise
the longing for a blade of grass)
when I saw the burning flower,
possessed of eternal flame
and playing about faces
	fair and familiar to me

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16 Renford Road
Page 17