Harmonia

I
for imperfect, neatly nailed on its head
Tall, slender daydreams, with a flower in its bed.
She curled up to daylight, like the cat amidst the floor
And swam into eyes, wide open on love's shore.
Silk waves foamed Jupiter's song, with delicate fish, lying
in illusion's lengthy streams, rippling rings of Saturn, crying

A precious celebration, held in the whites of her eyes

Some beauty noticed when her iris met watery sky.

Above, clouds hummed heavenly songs of sanguine reflection

Slowly passing the ghosts of our martyred perfection

And meanwhile, stampeding the surface of two frozen lids,

What was once unnoticed became as clear as a bright grid-

Elastic bubble hands sculpt harmonia amongst the few
We are the rigid spine, the hopeful I's and the you's.