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.