I know I've forgotten something.
Something game-breaking, delicate,
Long stalks opening into stars.
I left the flowers in the icebox.
I am a rubik's cube of nerves:
Is it possible that I am leaking gasoline
And that the friction of the dance floor
Will ignite my manicured clothes
And hurl me towards the draping cloth
And so on it goes until the foundation
Of the Landmark brilliantly explodes?
Or is it all so much simpler than that.
Is it just a gentle, fiery chord
That shoots out of the violet bulb
Which I have abandoned, left to frost?
Is that all that will bring us together?
It's pretty but it's just another memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment