Afternoon Tea

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 Afternoon Tea


The sight of the face that is our bough

Is to be enough, and is enough to be.

Together, we are under the dome now.


We lay wishing to find what can endow

An apparition across space to see

The light of the face that is our bough.


We make god’s equal from the sound,

Dreaming of two-fold complimentary tea

They would be serving at the dome now.


We are fishing from the star-thunder’s brow

That folds and makes the lovers’ city

Out of the face that is our bough.


Separating form and action, verb and noun

Until the only peace we meet is in the hopeful sea

Poured from the ghost that presupposes us.


All the stars will coalesce this time around,

And profess no good is the hope that burns quietly

Using the petal that is her face’s bounds,

To claim,


We are under the dome now.

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