Friday, October 24, 2014

The Skirt (this is not a love song)

Please play this song whilst reading the poem


When I wore that skirt
it licked my hips with fire
surged upwards with boisterous Phoenix curls
and stamped its ground revealing my skin

you said
I've never seen you in the daylight before
and I said
I think I might pass out soon
you loved me then
imbibed me as LSD

Poems of minarets, drinks in Tardis bars, kisses in phone booths, grasping intimacies in disused lift shafts and crumbling stairwells, the noise and the heat and the light our demented background for a star filled union

I said
We are two disheveled poets

Gloriously, until a metro car in spring


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