Glutted with time, reeling, having consumed
The days and drunk the fickle nights
Down to their rollicking, ashen dregs, the moment
When dawn floods the horizons with her crisp sunlight
And the towers reveal themselves like gem-clad
Green monstrosities, I strayed on my course
Of rhymes and guttered into a deepness.

Visions tickled the extremities of my lashes
And ductile pipes like a tapering, flow
Of the just altered image of flames, the central core
Of pure white mixing with a blue flight that flits
To the textile corners of memory and takes
The long shape of the mistress moon.