Andy Stallings

Paradise


Such gloss, and sway, and
 
transparent grace, as paradise
 
deftly affords just weights my
 
temper. That light drag stuns
 
the atmosphere. Such an
 
obvious skin, stripped and
 
stung, wound up with aloe
 
and salt. Bright assessment of
 
our westernmost hour, rain’s
 
layered array. Bright dyslexic
 
spark. I make a sheltering
 
gesture. From wind’s riverine
 
extracting heat, as varnished,
 
as banished, as held. From
 
here the slipstream spreads.
 
Whatever disappears
 
becomes a mirror, still talking
 
about the world as it
 
vanishes.



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