Sunday, 9 August 2009

If You Are Not Careful

If you are not careful I’ll give you
Awakenings in watercolour,
The damaged fire of the frescoes,
And sacred cloths in spattered oils.
I’ll give you streets of pastel stone
Wilting in the blood-hot sun.
I’ll give you naked bronze black with poems,
Lips tense with contorted spells.

If you are not careful
I will love you like a blasphemy.
I’ll peel back your red skin
And dance with you up close
Against the heat of your dreams.

My Everything

You are not my everything.
You are not my snow-capped dreams.
You are not my heat-stained vineyards.
You are not my midnight rain.
You are not my cerrera marble muse.
You are not my salvation or inspiration,
You are not this angry sunset,
You are not my pink, princely dawn.
You are not this epic blade
With its silver movement.

You are nothing compared
To these child-like clouds.
And you are not the impatient taste
Of the future melting
On my tongue.