That Is

Let it be.
The little bowl abandoning
the unreachable pink light.
Ambrosia
was searching a geometric center
of a smoking hub.

Flame
of a bonefire was leaping
towards a topless tumbler.
The midriff
will spell a disaster.

A nomadic
sleepwalker had become incandescent,
starts a prayer
for a condemned enemy.

My body was a river.
flowing
on the impacted rocks of violence.
Was non-violence still relevant
in turbulent times?

Give me some unreason today.