The night sky is Hebe’s irises, silent as purple pansies 

Downstairs, the sand is Geras’ teeth, 

cradling fossils and other ancient curios 

Leonard Siffleet is back in the oceanic hammock 

&the ghost sailors are wadding towards him with arms wide open, 

tide washing away scurvy and sword scraps 

Juliette drifts on a crystalline chandelier,  

moonflowers and comb jellies woven into her hair 

The skyline of Las Vegas is snoring, a giant’s rumbling 

ghosts had picked the psychedelic mushrooms clean 

sated, they flock back to Aitape’s patient cottages. Overhead 

Chang’er rides on a slowly eclipsing moon, 

rabbit heads bowed in joyful prayer, 

a devotional to the mermaids’ lullabies