I listened
To the dessert you made
I tasted
The lyrics you sang
Your eyes got jealous
So I felt
Everything you
Touched with them

3 inches of poppies are

forecast to slide

down a single-pointed

emerald called a city.

a snowy red where the

cast alchemizes a sun

to break into winding

chills of kernel.

he gulps me into peaces
__

led to his bed.
eyes kissed and asked to
come and go to where I
dream and imagine
but do not think.  

he gulps me into pieces.  
oh my god
oh my god
oh my god.  

and when he sees I am at last
in peaceful,  
speaks.  

god could but desires not to answer
all who call out to him.

thus the human was invented:

an imperfect messenger

a version of his image

that answers you in

pieces of peace

as best as any

human can