Wednesday, February 12, 2014

tellement beaux, j'ai douleurs

And I watch the sky turn green over this city half rebuilt/ And half just made of dew

The bar’s sweet dusty musk light fills the air,
Intoxicating like the cactus bite,
Agave stings her as it warms her lungs,
Sweet citrus slipping down her salty throat.
Outside, the snowfall suffocates night’s noise,
And casts upon the world a muted spell.
Clogging the busy roads with drifts of snow,
The winter storm, so meek, so still, so soft
With careless joy heaves snow against the bricks
Of houses, pubs, and miniature chapels.
Snow crystals hug the porous bricks and mortar,
Microscopic flakes of frozen ivy.
The lonely, faded skyline of the town
Glimmers above the streets impassable,
As rosy dawn cuts through the permacloud,
A flicker of the bar light’s cozy haze
 Emerges from the frisky chill of dawn,
Intoxicating warmth, in scarlet rays,
 Crystallized in dawn’s ebullient light.

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