Alchemisland

I used a spidery port spill as a diluting mirror to bald my chin

What a day cannot build to delivery I scorn indifferently.

I bore my ring-implored Djinn with stories of how if things were different

In every instant, I would win every time.

All bored roads Romeward go.

Everything’s happening below;

Colossal toes ‘neath tossed flow, hard by Rhodes.

Her freighted light she shed politely in bile-negating waves

Assuager, bliss containing, this container Grail milk conveys.

She shakes; she undulates; she breaks.

Her eyes sometimes opaline

A mesmerizing paisley pattern of some kind.