I wish I could chew
with him in the lava sky.
I wish he would see
my feathered body is squishing
down a liquid ink smothered cliff.
Pillows of snow skate
when gravity drops
as
angelic words
reach these bruised
bird eyes.
All of those concealed things are
climbing heartbeat cries.
He wears no island disguise.
He geysers no Vesuvius lies.
He travels in The Lost World
sailing above and churning below
for
he has mushroom birthed
his
vey own
moonshine window.
One day I hope
to join him though.
The center of it
is the best
discovered fluffy
volcano.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem