This manifestation,
Cold and concrete,
Eneveloped all the light
On the fingertips
That pointed me
To resurrection.
I was to be born again
Behind walls of careful
Skylines.
~~~
I was not welcome
Nor did my arms open
To embrace the
Empty rooms with
The orange lamp lights.
The love there was surfeit,
Apparent in the mold on the walls.
My head was a weaving ambition,
However, wishing to aknowledge
The clouds with my hands.
The light flashed red then
In accordance with my truck;
My fantasies I could not handle!
And I succumbed once again
To the power of bedazzle. |
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