Moltened Down

Moltened down
Sat holding many thoughts
The Buddha is weary
and says Nirvana has failed reincarnation
though I be still
the creeks,
and creep upon his bracelets
his septum reflects
   how the bricks bear my tarnishings
Pure, but rusty
Kissing obsidian dragons
and therefore the spirit grows old, teeth of coal
 biting and sucking wonders through a
                                      fire-straw
I beg thee to
              stab natural law in the eye,
                             and give its iris to me for
                                      a souvenir,
but the selfish kingdom claims it doesn't see
and that heat is the enemy

But O' jester, you and your stories
I mate with fire, and I will wrtie 'til this host
                                           turns cold.