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.