As Tarnished hats of high seas
that not even a Solemn hound could resist
Or ignore the scent of fresh blood
And Would you wear a hat
as the sun melts on boiled honey taste buds.
–
Behind red wood scaffolding
Wrap around Glass mountains
that range from bays in shallows.
–
And where Statues that Once held sway
Now Hide their eyes from sight of man
Off grided paper isles.
–
As paracetamol dissolves for painless cursive desires
That are loaded in Astronomers view finder.
