(no subject)
Fire Concerto
By Adam Ahmed
The deepening of your face
at dusk inside the parking-lot
but there’s a scarcity of ceilings you
said the coffee might as well be
water your arms
rustled as if out of breath you saw
your body drawn-
out as dark over the town
a scarcity of skin and
water your arms
thin as minarets
in the thick of night
still you stood there with eyes
peeled as pears in wonder of
what a feeling that reeds
your wrists as if your bones
were hollow you said
and there’s a surplus of wind
By Adam Ahmed
The deepening of your face
at dusk inside the parking-lot
but there’s a scarcity of ceilings you
said the coffee might as well be
water your arms
rustled as if out of breath you saw
your body drawn-
out as dark over the town
a scarcity of skin and
water your arms
thin as minarets
in the thick of night
still you stood there with eyes
peeled as pears in wonder of
what a feeling that reeds
your wrists as if your bones
were hollow you said
and there’s a surplus of wind