Strata it was strata -- burning up in the sky forking summer to a pale white heat hard water turning rust at the sink pulling courage to the colour of Autumn and it blazed and it loved and was touched and it rose up as it stared back at death and it blazed as it fell and was lost and it blazed as it fell and was human. Sitting Rock heavy is the sitting rock; full of winter sun -- bestowed of warmth you took for closeness. ---- sun rising -- moon rises. look there by the water, where hieroglyphs and lighted clefs are speaking. look to that Valhalla mist, where viking ships and tenements are creaking. and here -- a parabola sky, and you and i, who watched and were its voicing. and i, the hand, and you, the stone, composed and set apart, as was the living. ---- sun rising -- moon rises. look there by the water, the daughter fled, remembering her mother. western snow-nymph -- purging health; emerging conscience envious of hunger. sans Mona Lisa' hand that sat a while -- and trembled for the painting. and here, a paradigm of sun and you and i were washed and were its breaking.
41, male, New Zealander