for Leonard Cohen

That holy voice that undoes the buttons of dresses
whispering them off shoulders onto the floor;
songs that celebrate the pellucid sky of Greece;
the dark confessions of hustlers and junkies;
Abraham poised with the knife of obedience;
the desperate Hallelujah of broken kings;
razors in the hands of beautiful losers;
generous assignations in dingy hotels;
the singular Glory of the god of Art;
speaking in the minor chords of death;
celebrating the discordant mystery of life;
dancing to the very end of love, never missing a step.
   - mce