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My Rainbow Cone

Out in is
from nothing to a wiz.
Ask me not to believe
this lick is meant to deceive
my eyes alongside my ears
in deep repose and melting tiers.

Stand me up to any mount.
I’ll lap the top off towering font.
Pass under thundering arc.
I am before you in the dark.
Speak from the silences in fears.
I melt then freeze again in tears.

Each layer tops the one before.
The highest melting over the base.
Lick this rainbow’s frozen taste.
The cone mightier than the place
gobbles up without a face.
But you, my dearest, my furthest and nearest,
are my only messy hope.
Let me eat and eat and eat
without stop.
Then flop. 

Published in Poetry