Sunday, 27 August 2017


Harsh lights glare
Like an angry multitude
the distance helps
diffuse their anger
the shy stars.
Cold blasts dig deep
into my supple skin
and you hold my hand
serving me the cuisine of your
Up Up Up
on the balcony
where the city noise
with each word you speak
your chest reverberating
through the small of my back
as you serve me
the cuisine of your warmth
Up Up Up
as the world passes below
a drunk conductor getting the fares all wrong
an old PA system blasting out tasteless songs
officers matching in a single file
though no one is crying war or foul
for now your arms are a welcome prison
Up Up Up.
as I meet your incarcerating gaze
harsh lights glaring.

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