Hand over hand, day climbed into night -
our noses bloodied -
our eyes bright with the glare
of neon signs.
Empty laughter escapes from the lips
of a woman, like little
drips
from a gutter.
Gutter hands, gutter voices. Is this
our Renaissance,
sealed with a kiss?
On and on the world turns,
and in her hand a cigarette burns.
Breathing in humidity and
a thousand evaporations:
alcohol and enmity
and sensual sidelong glances.
“I had the taste of blood and chocolate in my mouth, the one as hateful as the other.”
Sep 21, 2011
Sep 21, 2011 at 5:08 AM UTC
Hand over hand, day climbed into night -
our noses bloodied -
our eyes bright with the glare
of neon signs.
Empty laughter escapes from the lips
of a woman, like little
drips
from a gutter.
Gutter hands, gutter voices. Is this
our Renaissance,
sealed with a kiss?
On and on the world turns,
and in her hand a cigarette burns.
Breathing in humidity and
a thousand evaporations:
alcohol and enmity
and sensual sidelong glances.
“I had the taste of blood and chocolate in my mouth, the one as hateful as the other.”
