I danced for my muse,

Lit liquid lines ran across my eyelids

And busted into sunflowers,

      ripe for her hand,

      for the taking.

Words evaporated from my tongue

      and drew lines upon a

            dried crumpled napkin,

(Pumpkin in color).

then,

Elegance tripped and fell down a staircase

      with a racket like

            a ceremony to name Chinese children.

But still, she smiled.