L’amour Imaginé

Drift me away on a cloud

(perhaps by a golden string)

in the supple silence of the blue room.

Your heavy lids and heavy heart

bring memories, hazy, of opium,

of dreams adulterated

under canopies of myrrh

and the original electric skylight.

Together, we –

you and I –

sink into the deepest of quiet,

feeling only the shy flutter

of a moth’s wings

against that wall.

That wall…

do you recall it yet,


against its chalky canvas,

we used our hands

to make doves against it,

even of it?

The innocence

remains still…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s