Salt Cathedral

Upside down roses painted peach,
braids curving some setting sun

in eyelids. Everyone holds
the downward gaze, constant

sun ringing in the visor… or
something more interesting

in the ground below, but that’s
obvious. All the colors, stems

popping up from dirt-soaked
secrets mixing with veins, it’s more

than she can bare, lights up just
one more Nat Sherman–

smoke dancing diamonds
around salt-carved saints.

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