Staining the Paper to Create

Blue haze ghosts from the vlass bottles Shapes to abstract nebulas The space between my trembling hands My fingers vleave the flocks of meteors The brightest flame burns most rapidly The artists skin is wrinkled in the morning But the eyes pulsate as stars The strength of my gaze shall carry far A mortal creature breaking borders The seed of infinity in the dead flesh Thge claen paper is so young You must stain your youth to create Now when I sit on the steps of my tower My fingertips turn to dust But when I raise my gaze It rides with comets forever