Dali and I

while fishing for elephants

fell by mistake

on a swan covered lake

and drowned in

arrangements

of baritone

eloquence

drawn through

the fine lines

impressionists make.

Through ripples

reflections

refractions and likewise

we floated like oil

on peripherals of blue

and danced

the last tango

in sepia dejection

with him

looking inward

and me

seeing through.