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Kim Kardashian in Heaven

Minerals in the outer stage, finding flowers. The least flower is the most colour, ending in words. Beginning in words along a path, with flowers and ticks and every spree of oak. Seizing in the instant the perplexity of instants. Rain was relaxed and falling, only the night before.

Tufts of birds and snakes and gear arrive, memory with a kind sentence or two. We read all the letters, and back and forth. A motorcycle in the invented distance. A turkey trots with purpose.

You have the colour of heaven when you walk in the sun. We are the name for recounting. There is no heaven without Kim Kardashian and the feathery flight of birds. There is no heaven without you.

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