November Falls
How clear in sleep a mind recalls
November falls from harbour walls,
dumb concrete boots and splashing sounds,
dead flower wreaths float sickly
sweet halos slowly drowning.
Confused by red and blue regrets
the sun then sets, spent cigarettes
flicked nonchalant to watery graves,
old love affairs mount spiral
stairs leading steeply downward.
Stolen on a breath that sighs,
fake alibis at crying eyes,
gasping hooks and dragging dreams
way out to sea where they may
be consigned to sleep with fishes.
With grim resign a mind recalls
November falls when winter calls
with spells of ice from frosted tongues,
the iron bind, the lemming love,
blind suicides of virgins.
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