Andy Stallings Paradise Such gloss, and sway, and   transparent grace, as paradise   deftly affords just weights my   temper. That light drag stuns   the atmosphere. Such an   obvious skin, stripped and   stung, wound up with aloe   and salt. Bright assessment of   our westernmost hour, rain’s   layered array. Bright dyslexic   spark. I make a sheltering   gesture. From wind’s riverine   extracting heat, as varnished,   as banished, as held. From   here the slipstream spreads.   Whatever disappears   becomes a mirror, still talking   about the world as it   vanishes.