(no subject)
A fever and a daydream.
After the years of war have been waged,
like souls waiting on the edge of tangibility
The ticking of antiquity
Pulses through us with the brevity
Of an old brass pocketwatch
Alight as a midair collision
Fireworks reflected in the eyes below
The note or phrase that always sounds
The upheaval of the real
Love’s ebbs and flows,
His key found amongst keys.
There is a door amidst the air
That keeps the flame ablaze
Hairs dance in the finger’s path
His song sets them on fire
After the years of war have been waged,
like souls waiting on the edge of tangibility
The ticking of antiquity
Pulses through us with the brevity
Of an old brass pocketwatch
Alight as a midair collision
Fireworks reflected in the eyes below
The note or phrase that always sounds
The upheaval of the real
Love’s ebbs and flows,
His key found amongst keys.
There is a door amidst the air
That keeps the flame ablaze
Hairs dance in the finger’s path
His song sets them on fire