Doors flower here, his secret parents told him a long time ago.
He was standing by the driftwood gate near the rusting letter box.
Yes, the one where the letters I sent didn’t arrive.
Above him the sky, a heart trip blue, blue Trumpet Justice.
Smoke symbols near the mountain top.
Smoke journey, curling language, wording of clip clap foot steps and sacred sighs …
Innocence, Earth moments, Venus breaths, Martian chaos.
The world turned a few degrees
Into the losing night light he raised the candle
tattooed snow cobra fish moon mind