We pantomime our sumptuous dirge
That has never known a chord without novas
Or a Nocturne of phrase
Charmed into glissandos
gilded as galaxies
of gossamer, awestruck Thought...
And now
These Arias are all of Us -
Phosphorus Dirth-worms
In dead white apples
In a Cave.
Our elusive orchestra
Polished by ambient clay
To gleam forsaken
and redeemed
Has often curved the flat space
Between The Mystery
And No Church -
Listen
And the melodies
Decipher
The delicate heresies of Love
That you make
With your bare hands
And our separate Hells'
Are but one Heaven
The Devil has to See
To Believe.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 11:07 AM UTC
We pantomime our sumptuous dirge
That has never known a chord without novas
Or a Nocturne of phrase
Charmed into glissandos
gilded as galaxies
of gossamer, awestruck Thought...
And now
These Arias are all of Us -
Phosphorus Dirth-worms
In dead white apples
In a Cave.
Our elusive orchestra
Polished by ambient clay
To gleam forsaken
and redeemed
Has often curved the flat space
Between The Mystery
And No Church -
Listen
And the melodies
Decipher
The delicate heresies of Love
That you make
With your bare hands
And our separate Hells'
Are but one Heaven
The Devil has to See
To Believe.
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