repelled by perfect hesitation,
the imprints of scorned histories
they howl at two faces of the same coin,
feeding their frozen demons.
turning behind vanishing doors
eyelids-
trying to hide the street-lamp glow of
the soul's flickering memory,
can't subdue the heart's swelling
for his eyes
and her eyes
lasso the ancient past
with each intersection.

No comments:
Post a Comment