We Heave Up Like the Night
       

It's snowing, our reflections stained,
captured in clean puddles.
We came down tonight
like resurrected clerics
who followed Hypnos
above city lights to skip time.
Physics bends as we have seconds slow.
Strangers are left to window shop.

"A Desdemona Nocturne," "The New L.A. Woman,"
she's singing like Nina Simone.
Sashaying conspiracy of lyrics and lace,
the lady rattles my teeth.
Who we were has been misplaced.
The sticky fusion fuels
our need to be alone.

So alive, compressed through my spine,
she becomes home, candlelight,
anguish,
velvet midnight,
the early morning hard love
and smallest mouth.
Palms held out with threaded fingers,
we hear the vapid mob.

Tweet

Copyright © 2018 Clifford Brooks All rights reserved
from The Draw of Broken Eyes & Whirling Metaphysics
Kudzu Leaf Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission