beyond the reader’s window frame

the sky’s taut tent pulls

from pale nylon to the heavy canvas

of a violently blue

Australian mid-summer noon
far up the lost transition

the blackness of outer space
her cheek turns against

an indigo pillow
the magnified twill disperses

white light

and colour is seen

for the scatter it is
poor brain made of water

rainbowed soap bubble

popped to a starburst of tiny mini-bubbles

shootingoffin eight

directions
her eyes skate down the icy page

and suddenly every word twinkles
the sun in multiples

the vast and glittering sea
seen through a wire fly screen
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