deepundergroundpoetry.com

It was White

  A white ...    A white ...    I’m dreaming of a curtain of snow
 
                                                          falling from her shoulders.
 
Snow crackling against the window. Snow shredded
 
                                           with gunfire. Red sky.
 
Ocean Vuong
Aubade with Burning City  
 
      There lay war.    Tyranny’s serial  
Killer... heat abroad  
 
The moon was white  
                        Degrees of yellow
 
    White lines laced with bliss ... much ado without implication
 
He ate the meat as if
 
A canine without teeth ... and she  
            
              tossed her smile carelessly  
 
She held a sparrow in the palm of her gentle  
 
               White... and trembling hand...  
 
   White and trembling
 
 
She ate a plum and let the juices run...
 
           Ran down her chin upturned ...  
run down it  
And dripped red juices to the floor....  
 
Let it drip                and he lapped like a dog  
 
As on airways nostalgia comforted  
         On all fours he licked red drops  
 
And once over  
Melancholic  
 
            He would forever be.  
 
Reduced to that taste....  
         orgasmically  
                     And in torture....  
his mind in torture
 
 
 
Wind whips the sparrow lost...  
she mourns her seat  
                                       Of an un gloved  
 
Pearl white hand
 
 
Un gloved and so delicate there....  
 
The morning makes it hard to build a nest
 
Author's Note
Ocean Vuong
Aubade with Burning City
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cwbEg00b3Xw&vidve=5727&autoplay=1
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