when the sun is black,

nimbus,

a luminous halo

appears, silvered

and turbulent as a heretic,

the reaching faint

shadows of plasma

fighting

with the radiance

of their host to be seen,

a visible hum

against the ancient

backlight of the galaxy.

 

returning to a door,

wreathed,

dry branches

intertwine in a woven

ring, berries suck

in their cheeks,

spines harden to needles,

at the centre,

a remote

monocle of concave glass

fisheyes a boot cluttered hallway,

three coats hang on the wall,

the heat of them burning,

burning.