In Symbiosis

Sacrament sacrificed to swim in sanguine
rays raised by men crucified in sacrament,
ride’s earth’s swift, pulsing channels in consequence
with humans with twigs feeding light into it;
erupting like sonar swaying souls away
coinciding islands with modified maize
modified to modify itself further,
sweetened salt, sour cranberries missed sorely;
vanishing dreams propelling on blueish waves,
cauterizing, dissolving, recreating
these soils as though sleep comes from nothing,
and most people willingly eaten by it;
symbiotically absorbed in order for
truth to retain its position over death,
until it is big enough to eat itself...
so soft, softly we seep through channels onward...

[The fossil-faced fish elopes with the sunrise,
as the weeping pink palm does not contemplate
the imagination of a dying horse,
or anthropoids massaged by warm, green sea-lines,
but what is filtering into its slow veins –
a most holy sort of lightened lethargy;
inhales itself to the size of an oyster
and tears up, away from the source of poison.]