(no subject)
sharp as the skyline.
coiled in wait.
your music is murder.
your silence is bait.
one glittering trance
and im dizzy in ink
id swallow your glance
in one brutal drink.
lilla rising through the night
touching each star as she passes
no, she does not burn her fingertips
because they are hotter than the stars
she wears a tiara made from
brass
and tiny pieces of jagged glass
and in each pece of glass she can see
her reflection dressed in every dream she ever wore
before she left her home.
and inside is the biggest piece of glass
which is set right at the front like a blue gem
is her most favourite self
and she names it lilla rising.
no
a reflection so true to its name
cannot hold so many letters
she sets one loose.
an L
the half way L
the L of dirt roads.
and torn country dresses
she sets it loose
it dissolves into powder
and the name of the reflection
is now
Lila.
Lila Rising.
reflecting hereself in present verse
as she touches each star with her burning fingers
and turns them into cocktails
laughter
high heels dripping gowns
heads thrown back
in cosmopolitan delight
into chatter fueled by the tongues of
the sly
the agile
the dasshing
the arrogant
the witty
the quick
and the vigorous
lila rising
in blue
a portrait of the future.
you are a fog.
you are everywhere i turn
you roll in from the sea
and lay a fine mist on my cheek
and then you dissolve.
your heart drenched in longing
as the sky ripens around you..
but the city feasted on my fascination
and gorged itself
the book was birthed
saturated with glamour and alacrity
and the vast and virile elctric horizon
but you were lost.
my beautiful city devoured you.
i might have stayed its hand
i might have shaped your curves first
then allowed the flesh of new york to creep in
and settle against your outline.
i might have
if the garden of lights hadnt
filled me first
the blood from your mouth
is on my hands.
i want to undo this.
i want to take the book
press my hand through the pages
until my fingers feel the last moist morsel of you
drag you back through its spine
and tear you into the air
watch you white ruffled shirt fan out like fury around you
your long white arms angled at the stars
your longing tangled around your tongue
your teeth bared mint blue
and your body stretching until you are whole again
until your fingers burn.
let me find you again.
coiled in wait.
your music is murder.
your silence is bait.
one glittering trance
and im dizzy in ink
id swallow your glance
in one brutal drink.
lilla rising through the night
touching each star as she passes
no, she does not burn her fingertips
because they are hotter than the stars
she wears a tiara made from
brass
and tiny pieces of jagged glass
and in each pece of glass she can see
her reflection dressed in every dream she ever wore
before she left her home.
and inside is the biggest piece of glass
which is set right at the front like a blue gem
is her most favourite self
and she names it lilla rising.
no
a reflection so true to its name
cannot hold so many letters
she sets one loose.
an L
the half way L
the L of dirt roads.
and torn country dresses
she sets it loose
it dissolves into powder
and the name of the reflection
is now
Lila.
Lila Rising.
reflecting hereself in present verse
as she touches each star with her burning fingers
and turns them into cocktails
laughter
high heels dripping gowns
heads thrown back
in cosmopolitan delight
into chatter fueled by the tongues of
the sly
the agile
the dasshing
the arrogant
the witty
the quick
and the vigorous
lila rising
in blue
a portrait of the future.
you are a fog.
you are everywhere i turn
you roll in from the sea
and lay a fine mist on my cheek
and then you dissolve.
your heart drenched in longing
as the sky ripens around you..
but the city feasted on my fascination
and gorged itself
the book was birthed
saturated with glamour and alacrity
and the vast and virile elctric horizon
but you were lost.
my beautiful city devoured you.
i might have stayed its hand
i might have shaped your curves first
then allowed the flesh of new york to creep in
and settle against your outline.
i might have
if the garden of lights hadnt
filled me first
the blood from your mouth
is on my hands.
i want to undo this.
i want to take the book
press my hand through the pages
until my fingers feel the last moist morsel of you
drag you back through its spine
and tear you into the air
watch you white ruffled shirt fan out like fury around you
your long white arms angled at the stars
your longing tangled around your tongue
your teeth bared mint blue
and your body stretching until you are whole again
until your fingers burn.
let me find you again.