PLANET
David Tibet
Naked you were bare to the 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫
Bore all and whilst the dogs dance
Backwards and leaf folds and clocked
The terror of dawn
Near twilight half-lit the new god grows
Claws at play
And moves on to 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞
The last Star on the hip
Of the beautiful mother
Perfect as Planets
Perfect as the small mouse in corn
Perfect as the kiss of the 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦
On the hills by the hills at the hills
Heavy with dew and kindness
And mixed with legends of Stars