The shining queen has fallen asleep, her head
under the curve of heaven. Dark-brown frogs
and buzzing insects speak beneath the purple
dome. The pyramids, currencies and histories
of another land, the sovereignty of her eyes
and they way they lead to death. I articulate
desire, design architectures that express
the love of flowers, the wisdom of the trees
and compassion of the pasture. The young queen
has fallen asleep, her dream is of a soft
and changing hue. Her breath is slowing down
like a planet in its orbit, I see the color
of her breast. The curving path of the Sun
writes across the wide-open vault of sky.
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