Two lipstick harlots gossip on the doorstep at Sauna 2k.
A silver Golf GTI sits like a preying cat,
Headlights insomniac in the red of the dark.
There's a menace in the railway girders at Finsbury Park,
A trapped tension in the bolts of the rust.
Greek cafes and hooka bars are empty but open
And boys talk football and bitches at the fruit stalls
Selling oversized watermelons and mangoes.
Heartbreak is a blessing.
You capitulate or you blossom.
Every time we love someone,
We become one of the prophets,
Tossing our souls like dice
Onto the sand,
Hoping the seed will find wet dirt.
Can you feel the crucifixion
In each of your summer breaths,
Your veins bleeding liquid truth?
This is the meaning of your sickness.
God's grace comes as pestilence,
In a contagious loneliness,
Disguising the sublime
As coal stains bruise Portland stone.