Monument – by D THOMAS

Sweetly, falling into half-light fancies
Spoken, gladly in whispers
Pale miracles in daytime costume
We made the nights burn
Before sleeping
Before the rage of angels
The black powder of ripe kisses
Catching like stars
In our throats

The tear in the marble smile
The sun – a bedridden prisoner here
The carpet of golden thorns in her hair

Carefully, in handfuls we steal secrets
Each pine needle keepsake
Mimes a swollen memory
You should see the dance of scars on our skin
We yield only to the sting of dreams

As the thought we lived beyond
Came into the shallow ring
Here, where the flowers caught all the butterflies
The eyes clasped shut
Their petals brushing the bruised blush of regret
Their significance breeding in the gaze
Of morning
Their fresh milk curdling
On tired tongues

If we watch the skies fold
We can match their innocence
And the mannequin in flames
Will be the cause of my phoenix
Which I give to you in caresses
Warm and long

(For M)

~ by londonsurrealistgroup on March 5, 2008.

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