The Histrionics of Asteroids
Perhaps it was an Arabian rock, my eyes misting the clouds
of the heightened slopes steep and hidden
from Hadley's Rille ridged to the Fra Mauro
like the Snows of Kilimanjaro
with spring vermouth
your raspberry lips affectionate
and haunted like a cheap wine .
First opened on the meadow beneath the snowfields
where the milk of melted snows
turned into rivers .
I opened the cinnamon tincture to turn you into a flower
and caused your heart to blossom promise
true to the one; and, the many ..
turned against you with your beauty against
all possibility of hopes to grow something new
Across the fields the wind crept up and lifted the hot sage
currying such sweet smells that we could not believe
would last except for the nutmeg
to go with your breeze o' tea
and the scent of life to trace, the promise.....
you could not help but keep
but keep your promise to me looking above into the sky
and then below.
into the valley
where the quiet villagers keep
the light that was given to them
by Prometheus, the nasty brother
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