10.

and the violet creeps toward me slipping
through small buildings as they blush fluorescent

still moisture blankets reach for the
mountains, but they don't care I
imagine them hearing that dog
barking with a laugh while rightward
black trees are disappearing

the sparks on my hill's sister flitted
lost, the cost of sparkling eyes and their
playground. (tree whispers take over, birdflapping
wings, hush dear,
what you see is yours.