we roll over a
palette
staining our
debility, in streams
of auburn & amaranth

coupled in a monolithic
trice
our pleaching
affiance drops
into a blooming bed
of thistles

laughter-
as we strip a cloud
from its
fraudulent
slumber

laughter-
as we lacerate
the sycophantic
sun

laughter-
as the alto-stratus
weeps

our implacable claptrap
intones a shattered
sonata

while the thistles dry
& detumescence
ebbs over vapidity