24 hours,dressed in diaphanous delight;melodious movements,revealing.
There’s a place where I’d be,and sometimes, you.
Acquainted, am I,with captivation — the shadow and soundsof the evening’s darkening,
Love’s illusion drawsa shameless attraction —
Coin a conversationand the day may seem brighter,the evening warmer still,bare-shouldered to the witand press
How much trouble is this weather?The pouring rain uponthe waving red flags, and
So, I once dreamt of a roadthat never circles back,and a jet that trails to different days,like a certain Jack;unencumbered
I don’t know why it’s a given,to have a hill on which to die,when I have another couch to crash,another set of wheels
A perfect world sways, urbanely,pours disempowerment, as from a decanter,sparkling, as poisons must,in…