Within these sunburnt fragile lips of dusk
the summer’s radiant wings
curl upon the air…
Flushed from fireflies and
blooming flowers of wild
I float upon the moonlit water
where fallen angels
like azure lanterns taste of salt
You keep …a circle
where our hearts sense
the tempest of wanting
but clench the soft parts
with hooked claws and
hunger to vast for mouths to swallow..
It is summer in the desert again…
The heat of the north winds
becomes the fever of anointed lips,
and I would be baptized by such fire
if your love was not such a torment,
a paragraph….a lack of confidence..
If it were more than just a wild
and vacant dream,
more than the desolate words
that come to mind
when I lay in bed and
dream of the thorny tightrope we walked.
But our love is trembling
it is naked and ashamed,
unrooted and sequestered.
It thrived in secret and died on display…
Yet still raw and exposed….
I cannot close the door,
or forget the sweetness
or the scent of our love…
I want to rescue us,
but only darkness
comes in through the windows now.
I smell the turpentine upon your hands
And show you my palms where the rusty
heads of nails sit embedded in pale flesh..
You said “The night is cold and has no boundaries.”
You said , “su corazón está triste”.
I replied….. todo lo que queda es adios…
All that remains is goodbye…
Gesso Cocteau © 2015