Shall we as ghostly fireflies,
witness moonlit atrocities together,
perched on windless gravestones
to take this chance, as transient beings
serendipitously trapped
in the wintry wineglasses of alleyway devotees;
They witnessed once, how their gem-encrusted
shipyards brushed the sky, brought down a rain
of carnivorous silvers- &
decked a church with neon roses,
spat mica onto the heathens’ hands
Come back to wanderlust
in the primrose fields
atop the fossils of things old & going,
watch the sun-wheel in the distance
creak under sunlight stained by radium
while here, motes of stardust gather
on the floral carpets
& tea parties are languidly evergreen,
deathless in their tinted porcelain
the creatures in the primrose fields
