Blink for me stone rabbit, I know this world won't have it,
but I'm in my prism state, subtracting chiselled dates,
and your blink, I'll equate, my stone rabbit,
to be magic, and safe in my prism state.
Rear your head, horse of bronze, on cemetary lawn,
your rear, I hear, in the streaming prism state,
and in tear, you appear, if only for so long,
streams, saline, looking through fountain pond.
Flap in teacup bath, my sparrow of alabast,
for these chimes, are like venetian blinds,
blotting lines--I try to hide,
and with nature's draft, they reveal a painful past.
Blink for me stone rabbit, bring me some magic,
I know this world won't have it,
But in my prism state, subtracting chiselled dates,
a grille, of melting icicle, is my graveyard gate,
diffusing light like a fountain pond,
the tears running down my face,
flap my sparrow, rear horse of bronze,
blink for me, in locket symetry--in stone magic--my stone rabbit.