fragmented, no. 4

1.
… air that’s dying above cities,  
impatience of traffic jams, fixated and tight,
steady and locked, like departures
that never leave, a distance that’s never
reached …  
 
the fear of the people, the criminal
texture …  
 
2.
… there are flavors in Autumn’s mouth, colors,
like painted wheels, colors submerged in colors,
swathed in a tranquil palette, the occupation of
orb spiders, seamstresses of silk, of trembling
nets …
 
the oceans of rain, wind, as stubborn as
loneliness …    
 
3.
… footsteps of an old man, like a lost drum,
his unfinished thoughts, of mourning for dead
children, lovers, friends, his need to move
from space to space, names he can’t remember,  
faces …
 
the drawn-out wintry years, the snoring of darkness,
of sadness …  
 
4.  
… that radiant summer, dense with kisses, with
your sexual potion, the moonlight across
your body, scent of nights, sleepless together,
hands, mouths, warm sunrises,  
motion of …  
 
on the ground your elixir spilled, devoured
by insects …  
 
===============================================
 
from my unpublished manuscript: Fragmented
 
first published in Fishbowl Poetry
 
©dah / dahlusion 2019 all rights reserved