In the purple twilight
God’s butchers flew.
Angels of beauty
Cleaving the light
...
So beautiful
Sublime creation within
The iris on the floor
A gleam of royal velvet
...
A ninety four proof suicide
Slow and painfully numb
The poisoned fountain inside
Flowing out a pale blue bottle
...
The man who breathed a tune
In the corner of the commons
Moved his hands deftly across
His face
...
Born, still alive. Not much else to say right now.)
Aurora Borealis
In the purple twilight
God’s butchers flew.
Angels of beauty
Cleaving the light
Shattered and bouncing
In waves
Great power flows
In green reflections
Pulses of blood
Covering the shore
Of night’s canvas
Primordial creation
Never ending focus
Lens to heaven
Star explosions
Reaching from the stars
Caressing my pupils
Immersed in purity