Persephone, that blue tether of moonlight

When I, the forever that bloom the hazel thick of 

Gualline green, with those eyes, mad eyes tense outwards 

Not knowing then once those tulips would sing in twice an ambrosia of shadow, to stare in oiled totalie, those graveth that rush in leukippas’

Dart brown tush of milk that sills in hers, an erudite agony, that green swirl of sequel winds tack bits by bits,

My eyes that ivy float

To be spoiled now, the zarathustra bleaching in me, 

Trance that cherry goddess of spirillae, love becomes vegetation 

To yellow sky, I pray you, once when anger trees soft like

The petals that since have red for mother

Since then to keep my heart in one place

Made from the dew of an earth of an earth

Love that ever dips in pure dionysian, pencil shades blooming

Styx in her human docile, a weary ocean yearn, the one that looked ephemeral in every world, you say , like a firefly dying out slowly,

decaying just to spite father.

Gods and goddesses of death, 

Automatons of a lively water, beauty of a gapless gaze

Our father, who in heaven mist both of truth and freezing salience

Every tree branch that badiou in pure melancholy,

me, that blue tether of moonlight