mort mot juste

janeiro 14, 2013

how i spent midnight

to the naked eye it seemed you said 
goodnight to the year
allowing perhaps my gaze upon
(perhaps my arms around)
your skin, your hair
the darkened corners of your smiles

my sight a blur
naive from promise
searing from gunpowder
a slow and steady brook
(yet no tears, 
no tears just alcohol and sugar)
i patched the scene together:
wide-angle, your watching as tons of
celebratory bombs go off
(in the wake
of a third person war
and whatnot)

while the others spilled sparkly wine
on their shirts
they swallowed chlorine and shook off
bad omens and dirty dreams, saying
this year man
I'll make something of this fading glow on her cheek
this partially expired clock
forever counting down

maria 5:27 AM 5 vociferando estavam

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