The dark. The city... the daily entreaty to the lost.... struggling and fighting. in warrior asana. in fleece. pulled apart. put together...again ripped to pieces. We lay side by side in the park. reducing down to one another. light reduced to dark. bite reduced to bark. kingpin to mark.
precipitation became longer, waxier, stronger, heavier. louder.
hugs held on tight. compressions of breath exhaled as powder.
eyes fiercely glowing to reflect our knowing
love. she steeps long like some medicinal tease.
one moment we lost her
the next found the keys
She stole out into night with her purse, change of clothes, and whole bunch of hope:
red for the courage to defy the establishment
blue for the sadness in telling, departed
green for the youth of the passion ignited
purple for the aura to surround the white light
yellow band around this from the suns attraction
lunar pale dust to preserve and not rust...
Rainbow were the colors i caught of her in traces
turned sepia passing through me
as i rode the bridge west, towards her calling.
across the empty
spaces
All this moving closer
shifts us ever far away
deceptive like
shifting of sands...unable
to be grasped...sifting through
our fingers
out of reach
out of hand
perfume. little black dress buttoned over was she wearing.
clouded against all my heads brief small clearing
i squinted past the gas station in this godforsaken city
(bonfire of pipes meltdown lives to molten lava)
the distance between us falls away...
all that stands between us now
yellow flashers
batting eyelids
witness to another high tide
drowning
love affair
Mark Powers Untitled |
there in the bottoms
exposed
frayed and fringed
earthbound
drowned
then in the street sunlight...
singed
No comments:
Post a Comment