Oh, to be a phantom sunflake
resting on the bile.
A single, golden, shining sunflake,
gurgling in the Nile.
An elf’s aorta, a unicorn’s anus—
none could be as sweet.
As to be a lonely sunflake
munching on a leek.

Rainbows tease me,
ogres please me,
dragons wax my car.
But to be a perfect sunflake
would take the cake by far.

When the grass is green
like acid-washed jeans
and the faeries are screwing the birds,
there shines on the lovely sunflake…
too heavenly for words.

I once caught a sparkling sunflake
in the palm of my hand.
It burned straight through like I was butter…
And now I can’t play tennis.