I sleep under a bridge
The hundred revisions of love letters
Lay rested on a day's rumination on my breast
It is a deep discussion on today's paper
A friend of mine cries out
Our debate has heated up
Our friendship is in cold storage
I doze off to the sound of cold thunder
A plentitude of temptations
A platitude of vast proportions
She walks in beauty of rumbling rumours
She trusts me and laughs like the flowers
When she is tempted to
Our angels may be invisible
But the love feels real
There are plenty of days when streets bleed
In the tension of crime
Which cuts like a knife
The wounded leopards lick their scars
Like a necessitous man lies naked in the cold night
I sleep under a bridge under the towers
Under the cover of your love, waiting
For you to bring me the warmest death
Under a common blue sky counting off the hours
Where I grow old without power or promise
And I shall wear the bottoms of trousers rolled
Lift my head up as I tear away
My sorrows from the fears
As years wind away like the minutes
I will sleep and purify the breeze
As the wind circles the dust under forked lightning
Turning ashes into a handful of lust
My love will leave behind gust
You will remember me as star dust
As you turn your eyes away for the last time, in disgust