still life with singing ribbons

Time unfurls loudly
on your bitter tongue.

Birds flick, fiery,
into your Still Life with Bottles;
wing-tumbling off spires.

The spinous city ripples
black icicles
upon the fallen-ribbon river.

Cathedrals hang, paint erupts
in a roar of questions.
Colors float, your infinite gullet.

The heady evening winds bulb over rocks,
tongues flickering between gold gulps and a


Space furls novels over the ceaseless quiet.

Your gold throat leans, watching the ribbon,
and the brief membranes of sky




Note: Image is Lagavulin 16 Year Old, Single Malt Whisky by David Kasman

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