Stories of Demise

Stories of demise
         glue me down
                 and in darkness bind me.

Rich jewel of refracted life
         incalculably myriad
         sparkling hues we cannot see
         cannot think of
         forms beyond measure:

                  they have slipt grasp
                  stumbled into shadow
                  deeper than eons
                  razed for palm oil
                  not even recorded in sand.

Still, our gaze strays not,
         from precious mirror, we who
                  long to cleave to water's smile
                  beauty we have learned to treasure most:
                                            smooth curve of cheek
                                            white tooth
                                            green eye.

Though tongues speak ceaseless signals:
         wings, warning stripes,
         beaks, claw-tipped fox print
         babbling raven
         oral history of the ant
                   recorded in elaborations on
                   four protein theme.

We deafen our ears
                  hear only song of our single lip.
         They could be cutting to the quick,
         They could be master piece.

Can't make us listen
                  get them off my sound stage.
         only secret code I want to know
                  is one that blares my fame.