Does Not It All Bear The Familiar Arc Say Of Just-Dawn Color, A Nape Conformed - A Burlesquerie De Deux Poem by Warren Falcon

once again, for Karthik

Does not it all bear
the familiar arc say
of just-dawn color

mauve-play at the liminal
curve where sky beseeches
bounded space to give
its shapeless-nest a Cause,

a nape conformed

convex from Orbis,
what has been scored by
breath pressed upon it?

Who then falsely may decree
any matted clot, spark-charged,
blood engorged,

who may not body-charge ahead
and into 'other' merge so must be
flung expunged behind neglected Moon

or plunged through the bruised
ring of abject-ed Space?


Hear me now

Thrice trace
an outline

give form to
now dust me
(I am) awakening
surprise

Here me how
there
and there
and yet

there again

after hammers

caressed
aureoles

and hosannas

do outward turn