The first row of light
is God
in the morning sun.
flows down
the moon mouth
like a glass of water
swallowed by a mask.

The mask is dead
long live the mask.

Clap hands
for the rose
on the table.
A stick
that found its voice
in colours singing
out across the invisible air.
A silent perfume
that narrows the gap
of separation
between us.

Michael Rohan
Positive Australia
mobile 0412281862

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