When your eyes can't feel to weep

I will say what use
is it to dispute
with you, sitting on my stomach like
a hundred-pound of feathers
I would rather rearrange this icarus
like, the wax of my thought soft, soft
the wax of our faces let us set to the sun

run with me, stretch your arms wide too
now the wind moves, alive with the unknown
particles of energy--how i feel you beside me
bathed in plastic lightwave beam
how I know your gold-droplet eyes again alive
--no

not tears these are, but the wake of blazing dream.