Wandering in a pool of stagnant fish, a woman in a black veil smokes

the whiteness of eggshell skies,

a pitiful glimpse at what should have been a smile,

rosebud cheeks dripping with false promises.

The medieval Clancy coat-of-arms bears the sharp teeth

of snow digging in front of the copper mine for green-red oysters;

nothing moves me like the toy piano when black worms slowly crawl under a thin blanket

of the predator over a bamboo shield, relishing the humidity.

Tender yeast fishhooks through low tides sifting through ambergris,

a gathering of sparks in fire from ice, she floatsà they always float

Two apples lay in the corner of my mouth

like the fairest climes where wandered the dainty knight