The Temple You Make

The temple you make with your fingers
up! Sun Nostalgia.
Tepid in the palm,
being equal to having no fishhook
or half-sleep. If you read this:

Yesterday - yes? ...
"The moon, this hour."
exotic apple transformed as reports from
through alabaster fingers. Do come!
together like bits of written life scripts

stone floating where space is
inside the cows
And you, your murky nirvana--
Dislodged dream you tap.
Pull it out with your fist.

-pink bitterness. wake
My habit to key-note
Voodoo open hinge
Epiphany for God's short letter
"To be all wind."