LEAVE THE SKY TO WHO SHALL WEAR
that vast blue drag.
In shade, I paled
Sung in the dark, the paths
the long unlit I unearthed her.
and tender with hum.
a clock engined with tripwire
Eyes, the colour puce.
If she dies tomorrow, I will leave
If not muses, then let it be demons. Magdalene had seven. I have one whose face is several. This poem is a homecoming.