Subtracting the Weight of Reality
Cynthia Marie Phillips

A smoky wasp exhales hues of deepest violet puffs,
hanging quietly aloft, slowly, slowly circling.

He banquets upon my supine form,
spins spidery wisps around my wrists and ankles until

I breathe his native air, my weight subtracted.

My voice floats past my limbs in the echoing palaces filled
with unnamable colours that pass through his ancient eyes.