it’s the fault of the early moonlight
if it weren’t so winged so bright
if it weren’t so music, so violet ah!
but the perfume, the perfume, the perfume, the perfume, the perfume
traces me over the sunrise
I whistle, I swoon I balloon
(you know I cannot fly in the dark)
apples, canaries, horseflies tango-green
bottles shudder their winged grenadine
moonskunk calls me beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
but only when I spread wings
bliss-blue, yes-blue
I dance through motes dancing through me
I wrap language around absence
around silence
(You know I never learned the trick of dive-bombing upside down upside-)
I pour shiny delecto bucket, bucket, bucket,
buc- ket- fuls
over you
over your tiny flags
over your owie owie
(you know I cannot fly when there is no
music, no violet light,
no perfume)
why
do you startle
these wings?
be still girl, I am here.I amhere.I amhere.Iamhere.I’mhere.Imhereherehe