The city’s a centrifuge of flame
slurred slivers of humanity
dance their delirium
drunk on street corners
falling into strangers pockets.
It’s 3.a.m. no movement,
unending movement of the streets
my head holds immanent hangover
strong hands, wide thighs, rhythm
his body lingers on the edge of heat:
you, a whirling cataclysm of delight
what am I to do with you beloved?
White light on the dance floor, glitter stark against autumn tones, a dank alley midnight zombies masked faces of desire , desire for heat ,desire to keep away the biting emptiness of sleep without a hand to hold. Beyond a drumming of street fever the crowds flow like water in a pagan festival, like the last coupling of a tattered civilisation. You turn to me, black eyes brilliant with the ecstasy of movement; the night has stars which belong to all of us. I’m enthralled by the deep grounded column of blue fire that holds us mesmerised in its power. If I shut my eyes I can feel the glitter pass between us, we rub faces mix the sweat of dancing I can feel the stubble of your cheek, grating grounding, holding me more complete than any kind of loving. We are one earth, one blood, one memory and I’m wild like the night watching the shore from a storm filled sea, clinging to my driftwood watching the distant lights from houses where normal people live, and I realise at last that something very simple could change all this.
Spawned from Persian mysteries
spun with the whisper of angels tongues,
comprehension is a catch phrase
we throw like a glittering ball of panacea
between us; I catch it.
Spirits spiral into the air borne
rivers of a childhood wish,
except in dream tunnels.