Thursday, 18 June 2009

A thought

beneath the clementine street lights
of silent repose
we walk
and with warm hands
we talk
'till your latch clasps shut
the pavement now mine
a tight rope of concrete

so i breathe in musky promise
and honey
with only the sound of silence
for money
and walk
the five soft steps
of a peace
reserved for life's
silent matisse

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Conceal me in your draw-string bag,

all lily skin, iced heart and plaid.