she tours the earth gallery,
dips her feet into the ocean
her hair a rainforest, her eyes
a quill, writing the end of
the world
into oblivion, a beautiful end
a masterpiece, a bang, a crash
pigment in the wind, a cracked jar, the glass
scrawls across the stars on
her nose. she buttons the shirt
of the universe
forecast of the future is that
the gallery
across the nebulas is closing
the sign will be hung on the door
clouds gather in the night.
