The summer cars
Drag on.
A hall of bumper cars sparking with electricity’s heat.
The sound of bars, with fluorescent women dancing in their private drinks.
Too much smoke for me, we’re angelic as can be in the image of a pointless life.
The breeze curls in whorls of new scenes, which move somewhat unseen in the brilliance of a dawning light.
The dew held the gleam, you have been set free
From the horror of endless strife.
There’s a picture of you and me
Where it would seem
We had resolved the end of the pointless night.
Have no fear of men nor machine,
Your touch has been kept clean
By the entire sight of your life. You’ve moved within me
Like golden angel wings illuminating our loss of height.
The wonder of scenes, the ribbons on olive leaves, the perfume of blankets
Keeping lovers within their means. A sound of bars, the caress of stars,
And the sculptures of beauty’s relief.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment