To polish the night
In patches of memory
hints of a past

Fastened like dried fruit
A dot of fire swaying around
a cinder of string
flutter sink sultry sugar crust

to polish my skin

a rest-bit for temperance

passages of power spaceships
lines that indicate “lift-off”
silver and gold leaf
gilding and lilting a steady rain

all revolutions exaggerate

relinquishing my sense of purpose

light and volume weave an ambience

while holding the love of someone
gentle, egregious and forlorn is a key
to an alternate universe