you land upon my window
wishing you could come
inside
and near the fireplace
you’d stretch your legs,
while drying
your translucent wings
close to the flame,
the heat may singe your skin,
contracting venules
to keep sponges filled
with crimson life,
and sucking absolutes
from tissues deep within.
I welcome you,
I shall,
if need be light your way,
by rubbing precious metals
until dawn,
a million molecules,
or more,
will swarm
like glow worms from our past,
to sit
upon the mound
known as the Venus Ridge.
And there they dream,
like humans do,
they dream in absolutes
while pretty colours float
to soon connect
where it commenced,
within the flakes
of whitish paint
on our new window-sill.