cats down under the stars

ending
for the big boys  
rolls in slow  
and sultry  
like a burlesque show  
for the divine  
 
time  
at center stage  
slithers from behind each veil  
drawing beat from the stretched skins  
of pterodacytl to teflon spacesuit  
from her hips  
peeling away every layer of the linear
with each inch exposed
of her skin  
 

the foot-soldier amateur martyrs  
explode into the virgin rays  
of fresh stars  
 
while  
 
the long war  
mt. olympus warriors  
stretch the moment  
thin  
and as  
infinitly dense  
as black  
holes  
 
tipping time  
 
into  
ecstatic  
arch