when the dragon

flying before the line of singe

screaming the losses

cursed with a flaming tongue

all feathers gone

long ago is less far away

than imagined

the future depends on it

living like it does in your face

on the edge of changing cliffs

and growing oceans

melting glaciers

and reformation of the dead

the eye inside the center of the cloud

astral theology

watching you

run the oriental from the train to Tibet

we won't talk about the bodies

and the frozen souls you sold

the lizard people

but the cost is the cost

the trees are blessed for loving your eyes

the strings of dryflowers in the glass shine melted

a tiny wooden toy on the brocade chair

forever my children, all