croesus of the golden horn
and page blossom from the silver book
the sound of sand scraped against itself
the crunch of a thin layer of sand imploding
and page blossom from the silver book
i have done such things
i have done such things
sweetheart do i know you anymore?
what have i done? do you know?
descent into ownership
the black and red grip of mastery
the press of lips and the grind of hips
i broke shallow against a lintel
i swept the pieces with my mind
with the mind that spilled from my head
with that page of blossom from the silver book