The red tide ate the sun (garbled text)

The red tide ate the sun Cessation, surcease
Civil war breaks out the dunes,
Opium poppies. 

And in the room.
This white splash against shadows
Afternoon solitude in the mall
Long shadows across our feet
The bottom of my shoes stick to the floor.
Rivers of heat rise from the black ribbon
Sacrosanct. 

Red hibiscus
 the size of your face and gladiolus
Funerary memories on the stock

and stained the water red
heavy breathing from within 
the shell of your ears 
I travel through meadows 
under a cloud of smoke. 
Isadora laughs as her car 
roared through the streets of Paris

This leavening inbred rises
like ghostly intuition 
loosened at night from the sea
Soft blues of flowered curtains.

 July 10, 1985