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Poem

Musty antiquity 
within.
Spice inside
a cauldron 
of ripe reason. 
Five months 
unshelved 
brewing boiling 
now the suave coolness,
animals don’t know
how to simmer their lovebroth
like this.

Only the Titan breath, what they desired remained. 

The world was dark, centralised 
spherical
the centre imposed
upon her perfect
cheekbones
his horned chest 
woolen jumper swollen with clues
breasts rising like meringues in a brick oven 
on her lips hung her whole life 
he extracted from her lips 
what he knew she was 
dying to give.

Ambience, randomosity, the
haze of a lantern
stage-lit movement in dust
eyes swivelled, bottles made
their pleas to be known
wise ancestral spirits

The gallery browsed.

Time stuck
between the molars. 

Abandoned corner;
hazelnut liquer, pomegranate
blood and something else.
They sat on the ground 

with this raspberry wine 
and sipped each other 
profoundly, irrevocably. 
She, mineral rich
rivulets of stone-clean water, 
soft aquamarine. He, present
like limestone
crumbling to a silent past,
frictitious, only lovers perch
on the cracked mantle 
of reality like this,
only they hear the moment's plea 
for recognition.

Copyright. 2009.

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