TerrariumShould you remember
the gossamer, or
the ghostly silence,
the glass house in the hills
tiny crystal knobs over brass- secret kept,
unbroken stave, marble smooth-
the aqua eyes of her, turning, turning
with the magnetic poles,
milk blue- arctic carvings, her quartz bones,
webs of electric violet, an effigy
thickening, thickening her
though the intentions were there
all along; slow to step
only meant she was faster to fall again.
Who will remember the hypnotic carousel of your
or the absurd mechanics
of your personal wills unspun?
What have you done...
The lemon white sun
it- stains, stains
an old oak sky husked of its green,
reminds her of you-
All she needs now to forget again,
is a stitch of iris
to fill her
terrarium mind, blue.