The transparent
surface reflects
flesh eclipsing
our skeleton’s
silence

on the water’s akimbo
window

a solid flow of indigo
limbs

where all we know
bends
like elbows;

it blends
where waving movements
never end

and I’m a part of time’s construction;
caving with the moments within—

simultaneously displaying
fleeting existence:
an extemporaneous instance
of skin

grounded on these surfaces
of unfounded purposes

marooned in the bloom
of flowers
cocooned in the womb
of hours

one of ours will soon
need room
in the always twirled world
of spiral-dark hallways

where viral sparks
have cured
unfurled hearts
and unsure desire
alit atomic pire