Incredible how we believe ourselves in old age,
Weaving through lambent divides.
Homegrown eyes aside, we don our tank tops
And sleep in sun and jagged brambles.
Weaving through lambent divides,
Our eyes close in ugliness, humming
Sleeping in sun, jagged brambles
Rise and fall under winded canyons.
Our eyes close in ugliness, hummed
By choirs of bee-stings that swell:
Rising and falling, winded canyons murmur
“Incredible how we believe ourselves in old age,
Symmetrical and sparkling, like Heaven.”