Chance-wise – D THOMAS

Inside the star

The lemon light

Bursts forth

And the wishes on the underside of her tongue

Catch light

In kisses


I want to put on her dreams

Sunken in her armour

The lived night

The fur grin

The stir of ripe glances


At the terrible fairground

There are always grey tigers

They make me eat their entrails

And tell them fantastic stories


I sting my eyes awake

Over to her mane

Last thread in spinning

Wings aflame

The scent of new pressed honey

Her eyelids in my actor’s mouth

It was the same performance

All wrapped in someone else’s collage

We could be swimming


The streetlight

Where even the moths do not meet

The broken treadmill

Over by her side

She offers me shadows

The stones I bring

Weigh heavily

The promise she takes

Whispers sleepy tomorrows

We will give



~ by londonsurrealistgroup on July 27, 2007.

2 Responses to “Chance-wise – D THOMAS”

  1. Those heavy stones sink like fearsome syllables, do they not? Does the petal stay or go? Alas, only invisible flowers know.

  2. Thanks for your poetic comments, Laylah. Why not join the discussion group at London Surrealists? See the link in the top right corner.

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