halogen

stumbled upon but strangely fitting still

In the voice of the thunder there were words and unwords

The wax and butt ends of citrus fruits

And pomegranates

The perpetual fissured rubies spilling out

Into a gaping mouth, an endless hole.

 

There is the voice which reminds me

That though immortal I may feel myself,

I am only one, a singularity, born from the universal womb,

Curled up in ill-fitting clothing

Tied as much to electrical impulse as the clouds are.

 

I drink holes like tattoos into the shivering earth.

This fiction was not meant for us,

Man versus the obscenities of time

The vulgarity of space

The indecency of his body, his spirit, his soul.

Vile creatures

 

We had such a shadow beneath the flickering halogen

Shaking out the blanket light, the woolen, threadbare neon

With the vibration of hips and thighs.

Kiss me, my lover’s lover, because we cannot both be just

But unjustice belongs to all.

Deliver me from the hands of my enemies

And I will be held like water in the hollow of your palms.

Reviews

[Moonflower]

This was all so elegantly placed, I enjoyed the language that you use, casting unfamiliar images into the mind, quite wonderful. The last line was genuinely beautiful.

[Ed Hart]

take to aspirin and call me in the morning