North Wind Traction

Waves in sound, and woven into gestures.
Through the knots of time a dream commands.
A desert was inside me and my mothers.
Waving sands in flow reconfigure heaven’s star.

The moon swallows us all. My favorite mouse comes out.
Lost birds in the eyes of a whisper.
When time arrives, I begin to explode and explode.
Just then, the door just shatters into stars and girls.

Collapsing fires have all my structures and a daughter.
Their wings weave waves of vital moistures and retractions.
A path of jeweled sequences traces out the riddle.
The smallest dancer has enthralled the King’s apostle.