///And at the// culmination of// the tip// a shadow cast// Christmas lights// of neon nights// laid upon// a printed shore// that begged you// dig in// the clay// beneath// the sifted surface// like brushing the dirt// off the treasure chest// buried at the X// as carrier pigeons// hold wings of hands// and baited breath// waited// weighted// on where the gulls go// what more// could flowers find// to grip sands// into soil// //[]// from the nebula// drops a solar system// and here I find// a sky beyond// the specs// of time machines// you call stars// burning midnights// into your skull// salted breeze// like caramel air// a lullaby// now calls you home///