“In which our names do not appear:”

Channel turquoise robe of succulents

tree book deep beneath green mirrors

iTunes sound drones in the coral towers

hardened libraries of salt and stone.

Glass membranes color the soggy page

“in which our names do not appear”

millennial pink, royal blue, Wedgewood china

gun powder mixed with pearl vinegar.

Rarity loses edges here, Kindle seams.

Glitter eyelashes lift, stiff breeze

streams open into western winds,

“in which our names do not appear.”

Powder puffs sing for me, we fly,

we soar air stream, lapis lazuli pearls.

Flames over the edge. Volcano breath

liquid enters the city like dolphin

pumice roughs away edges, the sand

“in which our names do not appear”

public library stairs even out into glide.

Mermaid and I dream by blood kajal,

bleached corals scream page thin arms.

On the naked beach, noise master

opens the O: beak, gullet, heart

“in which our names do not appear.”