My god breathes in the smoke of a thousand incense

And breathes out security

That mothers with cataract crowded eyes

And betelnut red tongue hastily collects

And stores in moth eaten bamboo canisters.

In this hamlet,

Time is a solemn video playing at point two five speed

And inside that video,fathers watch sons and daughters leave home

For neon cities.

II. Spring arrives flooding in sunbeams

Like a stuck skylight window finally broke open

While I watch the red of the rivers

And the blue of the hills blend to lend purples to a foxtail orchid

On winters the north wind descends dragging along a few faint stars from the last blue hour and I serve her

A cold jar of homemade grief

-A tablespoon of make-believe ,

a pinch of melancholy for the after taste.

III.Half of my dreams are soap bubble fallacies

But I can tell you ,

God wears my grandma's sandalwood for cologne and watches over with a halo shaped looking glass

Someone said our hearts look like throbbing helium balloons from above

When we die does it look like a carnival?

Hundreds of hearts let loose

Balloons soaring high ,never crouching

Never returning home.