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  
            He would forever be.  
Reduced to that taste....  
                     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
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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