Beyond The Glass

Arcade Ring

I'm out of the unholy chain, not able to see another fall, 

Decorating my CPR lines, on my feet to pass them all, 

The immobilized paint wrapped the peace, can't see the letters, 

A bomb in the sky, dimmer and grimmer, counting the matters, 

My car will run fast, catching your intangible sound from a window, 

Ringtones hushing, a puzzled face on the right side of a pillow, 

Burying my face in my hands, the fear of watching the same film, 

The waves are covering the prints, there where I would swim, 

The glasses on the lights getting brighter, 

The bed sheet is more pale, embracing the tiny pieces tighter, 

Watching your cigarette smoke, I know that you belong to my shore,

I might play my show again, I can't be sure,  

Symbolizing you, the luxurious art in poems which they are running out, 

My fingers on the naked glass, with no doubt, 

I'm glancing at the wet sand, and cement on my head, 

I call you and say "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it" forgetting the looks of my bed, 

Living the summer in a cold winter, sins in December on the shoreline, 

But, I can't read my margins, I'm on the deadline, 

Sorry for not giving you an arcade ring, 

On an island within a high kingdom, you flowed a king.