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