Skin of profound umber  

hair like an obsidian cloud
visited by sharp golden stars
before it recasts itself in peacock
and sky and tangerine and magenta  

lips frothy and sweet
a blueberry ICEE you want to sip  

cherry eyeglasses and headphones
to match    covered in a bubble helmet
a bomber jacket of all colors—
a true patriot of humanity
looking toward troposphere   stratosphere
ethosphere
where all come together to honor
one another.  

(A dying sound—scratching
of old hands on a coffin
of one’s own making
lips that used to spit
on others
moaning last slurs
unheard over the music
of a bustling mingling
now tumbling into
tomorrow).