TOY, A TOY!

Jigsawed aluminum for corn,
Rhodopea, Militia, and Rhodoclea
strove with each other in a queenly
habitat portioning memory
and dressing me up as a judge.

They stood naked
dipped in nectar
and I was naked
with the 3, but for a rose
and a pair of scissors,
and ornithology,
for we had recently
exited out of sculpture.

A wolfstone covered in roses
had been our home, a femoral
artery whose superficial velvet
trembled.

"For fun," I offered.

As I knew how Paris suffered
being a judge. I love Paris.
I gave them my regal toy
immediately. They were
precise technical avatars
pocketing the zephuseon.