Cenotes

her eyes deep freshwater cenotes
bore fractured limestone
creosote scent, bitterness of ashes, sizzling white hot flash
the sound of brightness reeling

Your eyes in Denver’s dusk
unfathomed wallows, connect and hold
A bourgie girl in 2nd hand clothing
bold jean-covered hip outthrust, cumulus clouds part

No, I hate that place, it’s full of hipsters
The pretty eyes, the flowers of ennui

focus faces gripping skin
maneuvers with glances the movement of clouds

wang the he the he the stillpoint

one day we’ll meet under starlight
a creamy moon light casting
you: the midnight’s thrashing
she mouths: ‘veni, vidi, vici’
lunar light leans against structures, trees
blast furnace heat render ashes, brightly