All the Rulers, the origins of carved Kingly grins. The Magis, and fortune card dealers, the city of Bam With the in-between curse of Jupiter's eyes, Now dusted in cluttered grins of gallowed skin.
A maramalade sunrise!
Pedals, distant delicious green, Bones in trunks of cars, Your scream, Dirt, Fallen clay dives The bones, the bones, Rivers running beneath. Distant tomes of the dirt-hollering Ancients, Collapsed ventricles dance These bones, the multitude of trenches, bent Bodies, The crooked grasp! The coral dance.
Ripe grieving beneath blind veils, the sowing begins. Bring the santur, Bring the violin, Bam eats strawberries, they watch now From within Wakeful Bahhs of billowing sky arteries, The mourning tides Piercing their Paradise highs as they Eat around the crispy Oak tree, Apricots, raspberries Of the bismillllahs and ashadoallahs And the sky of doves Dripping drones Above
Over the hills of the clutched (Thrones), These united bones.
Wait now for the movements clay-spun palms of Jamad, Until the lions return with their silent whiskers of Induction. Wander, wander-in on down to the Citadel, With kissed souls, And no more excuses for taming hearts with erosive melancholy grips. For while the hearts of Bam held on with The meandering shoelaces Of Vayu's dance Through the morning hours With Mithra's peppered stroll, Into Kiyumarz' bones they Vanished. The meadows of rubies, The Lunar Mansion Laughing them Into One. Again.