This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2003-06-26 06:31:51 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Blake's hour

Sooted cotton clouds the sky hanging like a sadness that now and then weeps words upon my page. This is a day of wanderings  on the lookout for the things of you. My café water arrives, spirit of a cobalt bottle - at last, a vessel bluer than my own heart. Where is that damned day that can overflow me less? All around are faces, all around facades and brickwork, and the infinity of machines spitting froth and coffee. How else can I live, how else choose to live when the faces and the bricks and the coffees become a lifetime, when my eyes feel your skin from over the road, kiss your distant shoulder by raising coffee to my lips, consummate our love by breathing deep this pedestrian air? The world that once your wings made rise and fly falls down upon me now and now I fall and fall into the world's deep. The world's mist  stole you away before we met, then disgorged you, angel of fire, shining in armour. Your love's scimitar fell  and sliced my soul into windows.

Copyright © June 2003 Mark Andrew Hislop


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