White

In the centre of cells an eye spirals
white like the flesh of a snow-peach
pouring torrents of honey,
sweetening the ratchets of helices.
Spliced nuclei rise snow-like
as if lifted in a blizzard.

The pupa's embryonic wings
swarm into flight.
From the feet and antennae of moths
white dust flurries
seeking the moon's heat.

A face blanched,
over-exposed and astral
distills a crown, a ring of tines
spinning in space, keening the sky's
immeasurable evanescence.

White knots of lace
mimic the paisley of galaxies,
each drop of milk a flame,
each flame dazes the sun's shafts.

Through the eyelets' empty mesh
streams the breath of trees.

Through the marrow of my bones
streams the honey of stars.