Wednesday 3 September 2014

Substitute

Can I write you
A palate cleanser,
A mood changer,
A ball swinger,
A whistle blower tonight?
Carry your muddy feet,
Your charred flesh,
Your cuffed wrists,
Your sun-burnt skin
To the nearest black-hole,
And the warmest dying sun
That lies on this half
Of the universe
Where I shall allow
Gravity to seduce us,
And the wind to sing us
Our very own love song,
And the waters to touch us
With waves of gratification
And sonnets of passion...
Let me write you
A palate cleanser,
A mood changer,
A ball swinger,
A whistle blower tonight--
So that my words may kiss you
Where my lips cannot...

No comments:

Post a Comment