Forty-Five Degree Angles Poem by Quincey Burkhalter

I dreamt of perfect 45 degree angles
Not sure what that means
I’ve never been about
Absolutes
Perfection
Yet the construction in my dream
Was perfect from every direction

I was building stairs
Perfect spiral stairs
Made of stars
Steps were
Beams of light
Railing
The softest comic dust
Violet refraction
Of universal memory

I built by exhaling my life
From memory lungs
Melancholy gasps of cosmic light
Stair steps into the heavens
Planets of vaporous thought
Rings of ice
Rhyming midnight cold in the stars