Red sunset interspersed with Saharan sands
that wind carried over the Atlantic,
red like the Creature’s ear grazed,
up top, against its white sunlit shirt.
Red like tycoons, billowing
buffoons, flying high on greed.
A storming sky and ocean
are identical twins so your nostrils stir
to take in salt spray from a lone sky.
You want to linger in the horizonless dolphin-silver
away from what’s constructed, like time,
stationed at this light signaling red.