Show me shiny rainflowers—the boon of tossing, pounded petals nicked by thinly chilled tears, let me see the stems wheel ‘round from all the arching rainbows that claim the dark sky above—their meanings are too superfluous, and they sport staunch, bright convictions… who knew the agents of god dressed like little sprites and sung in the summer breeze?  What demon clagged the bees in inches of wide, gummy wetness? From stinger to sticky proboscis in syrupy sugar and salt, from eye to errant soul in a panoply of sweet, tangy bliss… I want to hear the night name them tulip and snapdragon, I want to stove my hands into the heart of aster and lavender, pick the one that pains me so skillfully, so softly, so adept at shredding my quick and able being… it leaves me as breathless as the void, as electrified as a socket, cooked as lamb… I am so exceedingly done at philosophizing I leave it to the trees to articulate my yearnings and satisfactions, the oceans speak my words, and finally the skies let loose their frosty raindrops once again—is it for me to judge the tide of the heavens?  What exactly does the bounty of the universe bestow on my poor brain?  Here all the beauty in the world is found glistening in the star of a tiny, tepid thing, so scared its dreams push forward stark, steaming bold, and boundless…