in the circular touch of your delta,
draw a moist and mindful lattice
in blue and dusky rose:
they plot a subtle demarcation
on the lineage of your splay,
(rising, as it were, towards heaven)
a tropical projection that spreads
from Capricorn to Cancer,
each soapy circulation
births the demiurge.
we are marking a longitude
limned by streams
that steam the freckled mirror,
(a primordial rhythm that mocks time
and worships space in a ritual without name)
a latitude reinvented
with blossom and release:
playing history in the mist.
it is not enough to wash this cloth
or needle, indeed, these dry flocked glyphs.
these are pure heresies
in the lattice of blue and rose.