book of secret love

[revolutionrabbit]

an ocean of kisses
arrived from Russia
in rags of revolution

the words, lost against sorrow
like there was no tomorrow
that became the burnt orange moon
wandered the back streets of novels
did not have a dime to scrape
only wanted to escape reality

rummaging in garbage heaps of cities
looking for manuscripts of the marvelous
and poetry hidden in costumes of pain
crawling down avenues of somnambulists

dressed as gypsies or poets
or street madmen who recited strange elegies
to the passerby out loud like rain

our days turned into subterranean nights
we languished in decadent hotel rooms
sentimental languors of delicious drear
the bread of our visions the wine of our tears

the mirrors of our windows
eternity through the pale moments of our gaze
alchemical gold motes of rays
through the panes of pandemonium & wild flowers

[mtmynd]

excellent.

[dadio]

Fine poem.