She Bakes Kicks in the Wall

She bakes kicks in the wall.
She briskly climbs to fall
from atavistic monkey bars,
and bumps her head 'gainst spiked stars.

She augurs holes in dark skies
where furnaces sear raw eyes.
She charts a hidden home
above that all, alone.

Selene

    Amber eyes rise
    warm rays stroking cheek.

Dew kisses as
fragrant heavens speak:

         "A million needs to tend."

 Numbers arbitrary, sleep is certain.

Turn back cheek's eccentric measure
and serenely net surveyed pleasure.

La bonne donnant remerciements

Thetis

Obsolete Edit of Old Slogan

                 

                       "Globalism is the last refuge of imperial scoundrels."