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in the cage of shadows
by the birches cast
  your red raincoat 
         wetly shines
Papers and clouds of dreams are stuck to the 
benches and the iron railings
 awasy in the fading sky, 
  I look at you
the way a child 
  sees the circus
for the first time
  

the window where we meet
         tries to steal the candy colors
of your coat 
  but it can/t
      
   You're nothing special, though
       a normal heart
filled with the ocean and
       a million golden clocks,
            amethysts and
        a harvest moon.

Just an ordinary Goddess,
    swirling, among the world
             with unmuted plumage
           when you kiss my cheek and leave
                it burns and lingers like
                      a hot shell casing
                among the smoke and noise
                        inside of me.
Posted by p.love at 3:17 PM No comments: Links to this post    
FRIDAY, MARCH 16, 2018
He died one day
     For three minutes
Not days
   A machine was
Prepared,
  But not ready
        For a while it
Was winter light
     Through an oceanic window
The loud congress of
   Birds’ Shadows and
Velvet black indigo
       The surprising cast
Of their kind, amber eyes
      
    Welcome back
Sputtering and
  Cut
Where everything hurts
  And nothing
Makes sense
  He cries
Like a child
     Missing
Christmas

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