Through preservation of pretentious little items,
which in reality mean next to nothing,
a king of paupers claimed ownership
of sorts more valuable than all trivial earthly worlds.
Flying too close to the sun
this king of paupers melted like ice off a glacier,
falling into reality,
passing through clouds harder than stone
and slipping through to his earth as tears.
“If preservation is the myth of love,
then leaving behind all I thought I’d gained
will lead to understandings pauper kings
hold more valuable than riches.”