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A Prayer

The dreampsalm echoed from her,
the monosyllabic moon fugue
of chilled prayer at noontide
Eloping moons burnt with the petition's
intent, and the village dance of wendigoes
with cinder eyes of globed moons,
serrated in black. Her bruised gaze
of star matter littering the trail
with abalone moon boughs. Her
vanilla starfish wig, and the brush
of her spider hands in a pilot's glove
filled with fumes from the Bermuda Triangle.

Editing stage: 


You massage my brain like dada
always suggesting, never banal, unblinking

Im yours Z

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