Daylight time whipping,
awareness bled where stacks
of perused consciousness are deleted
a residual image still haunts,
champagne teeth at the mirror
staring back with bagged eyes sore.
Reload, same lines traveling outside
black windows, blank faces,
in the white room, transfixed,
in the white noise becoming.
Meanwhile, beyond the horizon of
a copper beach the ocean spits out
a sun so different.
Back in the dreamless south,
thieves of night break into tiny worlds,
fuss and moan in a paper inferno.
Automaton, carry on
through the electric cold,
automatic dreaming in the cozy
within sheltered, stand on tectonic faults,
the promise of calm wee hours
and the soft copper flow, my painted angel.
All encompassing trickles towards
concrete fulfillment, in the parking lots of destiny,
rescue comfort in knowing the spades of Maya
straightened the backbone
of my skyfire home.