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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required ...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932) As I dream the sounds of morning sliver, cut my senses; slow, persistent slices pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness. The muffled cries of merchant hustle and the honking of the traffic, the noises of a summer's day displace my reveries. I wake, and through my window I see barges in the harbour, bustling like beetles, scuttling over busy waters, dragging ships with overflowing cargoes safe to rest - the dockhands primed and ready to disgorge the merchandise as sunshine washes monoliths of steel and glass in dazzling refinement - Manhattan like a mass of molten gold, smoldering and bold. Steam and smoke engulf a vibrant scene encompassing, then drifting into nothingness, the sky a blazing blue, the docks a maze of rarified activity as yelling fills the air. Beams irradiate my garret - drafts of bright and humid air like punches in the stomach take the breath out of my lungs and leave me gasping. I sit and watch you sleeping on the bed. You stretch atop the covers like a vision, your legs and arms a picture in repose; I do not dare to wake you from your dreams, your limbs splayed like a strumpet, you expose your naked form, my touch will flutter your desire. Your body 'wrapped in mine, our souls a living sacrament to love and joy divine. I enter you and all the stars explode, fulfillment is our quest, our sacred testament. As evening gently falls the windows glimmer, the city glistens now from altered light; the glowing falters as the sun dips slowly, dying in the West, makes way for night. Activity's still rife, but in my garret, I reach for you as darkness settles soft, I hold you in my arms, forever blessed, while stars are quietly dancing up aloft.
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