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the storm of Neptune
the blue dipped night
decreasing in temp
We are distances
great in keeping with degrees
we are numbers formed
by angles
Arabic names on stars guiding
caravans to nameless jin jin
We swirl our tempest dervish
startling camels
in dung fire glare

and our own star
burns awake the nestled
coil of heat
rising svelte

Editing stage: 


I love this, very exotic and lofty.

sometimes I write for myself
and this one is one of my favourites
its personal poetry
spun in times of great reflection
Im glad you love it whitetea

so do I!

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