it is raining in my side of the
earth
and where light slips away,
ensconcing with its lackadaisical imprint, is the morning: pinnacles and then topples
into
acontinualeveningwherewordsrunandbreathscometoa sudden
halt:
in the same intimation,
your lip's crepuscule
or your commune's crescent,
in my side of the earth
from yours, hurled out
the many sinuous fingers
of water and the lamp's
palpebral flutter.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:14 AM UTC
it is raining in my side of the
earth
and where light slips away,
ensconcing with its lackadaisical imprint, is the morning: pinnacles and then topples
into
acontinualeveningwherewordsrunandbreathscometoa sudden
halt:
in the same intimation,
your lip's crepuscule
or your commune's crescent,
in my side of the earth
from yours, hurled out
the many sinuous fingers
of water and the lamp's
palpebral flutter.
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