I speak
I speak
In drones and rolling echos
a tapestry illuminated by hums and murmurs
rich divides, tones and changes
curled ashen sirens and spontaneous prose
my incense is lit
fever drapes, hung recklessly on thin strands of hair
ornate earrings and olive eyes, deep mascara and mystery
perfumes of another realm and secrets to tell
we hover slightly above the light
it pierces our eyelids, creating space
like a pyramid of bent rainbows we disappear
folded like newborns into the heart of a blanket
painted dead and alive and anew
purple flowers, saffron tails & euphoric angels
stark and pressed together
outside, the echos push hard against the wall
a constant buzz, machinery flashbacks
until the passing blur of cars and crackling telephone lines
create a lush whiteboard on which to project our vanishings.
Friday, 12 June 2009
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