Romancing Neptune
had an
amorous wish.
The body is water.
Take it,
split it,
and then become a doormat.
Blocking the fiesta,
a ghost brings in
storm, in a glass.
Will you drink the moon
in night?
The street now walks in,
taking a call to kill the shades,
of wrinkles. You forgot
your name and move
gingerly from post to post
lightening the lamps.