I've noticed that I've stopped noticing;
The way I look at the forbidden face
And the way it looks at me
No longer stirs the heavens.
No sailboat turns on its heaving sea
When our corneas connect in a brazen
Fire, nor do any fidgeting mourners
Swallow graves over our crashing pink hands.
The tin-suited band piece has long ago
Replaced any emotion that could inflame
My cheek with a khaki cigarette smoke
And spun out days like empty bags.
Still for the rainwater of his laugh alone
Might I swim the Earth's crooked orbit.
Mar 5, 2011
Mar 5, 2011 at 8:19 AM UTC
I've noticed that I've stopped noticing;
The way I look at the forbidden face
And the way it looks at me
No longer stirs the heavens.
No sailboat turns on its heaving sea
When our corneas connect in a brazen
Fire, nor do any fidgeting mourners
Swallow graves over our crashing pink hands.
The tin-suited band piece has long ago
Replaced any emotion that could inflame
My cheek with a khaki cigarette smoke
And spun out days like empty bags.
Still for the rainwater of his laugh alone
Might I swim the Earth's crooked orbit.
© Cody Edwards 2010
[EPILOGUE:
You are the hidden quantity,
the man on the other side of the canvas,
the word written behind the sky.]