periscope

i wanted to pay for a pair of your eyes.
my quarters all winked with worry.
where can i dig the bird from?
here is the mountain getting up
& leaving each night. a hollow
in his place. i used to stare
into your eyes like cisterns. 
dropped quarters down them while 
you slept. make a wish on
your lover's bones. the dinosaurs
stir in their oil & gossip
about scraping a hole in the blue.
when a color inverts it becomes
a dream suit. i am wearing
this cloud like a robe. the horses
are lost with no intention 
of pulling the meteor back home.
follow me soon, i'll teach you
how to retrace the horizon line
when it blurs from so much use.
once i had a brother & we'd eat
ripe melon on the curbside 
of a dead tree. i used to bleed
so much i thought i was 
supposed to be the next ocean.
when the mountains come back
we never ask where they've gone
out of politeness though we'll
always wonder. what are your theories?
i think they go to stare 
at their own private television
where they can see erosion
on other planets. i find a quarter
on the sidewalk & use it 
for a future view. green will soon
betrayal us again. my trust
is watery & new. i left my shoes
in another lifetime so here
i walk on foot prints. savor 
the grass's itch. knit
the mountains their sweaters
& keep a casket of feathers
just in case. i'm holding
onto the glimpse until it hardens.
turns opal & fluorescent.