a sun will always rise you said / as you smile and roll close to me / pressed heat not like a summer day / but a crack in the dark earth / when molten rises to the surface
On the Pavilion / as the warm night nears, / flecks of sand scatter / into the liquid soil and slivers of / crested scales slip into a silver / stillness.
When morning comes, / the strawberry moon will / enter a new phase, and / the horizon, shimmering / now with light, will suffocate / within wildfire haze...
