Urban Shadows

Urban Shadows

The evening wind billows past open windows
that roar and sputter like barfing minds
bleeding noisy white into

you, me.

We trail the empty road ahead where
secret thoughts drive unnoticed;
yours, mine, ours the wind in the vane –
as passing beings, furtive and fleeting

now ominous as noise a blanket of white

threatens a beacon like light
at the horizon bubbling and blistering and boiling
a roar of red streams pulsing through our breasts till we finally
like new born animals into a new world where
vision ebbs to senselessness and colour fades to white

you, me.

We discover, loosening our grip on the leather wheel
there is no right or wrong to the truth
and with boyish shout we turn to undress
and jump again and again into prepubescent rivers that
call our names and surround us with joy in troughs of icy cold sunshine.

Like a memory, or a moment of clairvoyance,
furtive and fleeting,
the moment we leave we find ourselves lost again
in the apparition of ecstasy
would it benign
the numbing of tar and sulphur in my opium dreams?

surely me a bone-shackled prisoner
to the back-stabbing roar of the wind.

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