It's a kindness of nude with noise control,
like the mandarins whose nouns hold halternecks.
When figure near the side of thinking Rubik's Cube,
there are an absence of heavens on the seventh floor.
Aloud their shift-work easy as a merges motorway of ocean shapes waves
conjures mine yes, sir, name, and lets off those branches' square dances.
by Lisa
(Published with the author's permission. Image original work by AlmightyMelon.)
