salt in copper mines of deleterious handshakes like an anthem bell under the darling lights of zephyr’s morning

cleaning up scarlet carved winds, tossed in abatement
down to the ceiling of frog bite plagues where dormitory
and centered persuasion falls agasp, for grateful mentoring,
meetings and rough breathing, tilted resonances under agreement

sitting at the doctor’s parked reception with stale working dimensional
dogmatic triumvirate dockings like a porter under the weighted basket,
long in the love and spoken rules without leaving or trying, remarking
truth to the end of your pale life like crystal hemorrhaging doorparks

cordial goodbyes on the doorstep of valiant plumb bells, the derelict
of hell’s private stable urban lies roaming like a lost heroine from God’s story,
leaving us to go break homes and craft domesticated patches on sound’s reason
paid from savings like an anthem bell under the darling lights of zephyr’s morning