Parading

bodies in morning light,

Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose;

Sunset the word holds more than a photo could.

I want to be lifted up

… Imagine

O no, it is an ever-fixed mark

a tiny step

strange ink, little calligraphy

Bruja    Hoodoo scribble

There, there’s only order, beauty: abundant, calm, voluptuous.