The Glazed Elixir Of A French Kiss

The spirited light, solar-like wind,
breath with its passion, the sun's copious
erotic venom.

I speak of everything and all things
without caution: this noise inside my head,
layers of high-pitched harmonics,

the compressed hours between
birth and death, the heart's heat
ascending and descending,

the end always beginning and again
your Gothic eyes. I have been here
and there, a prodigal hawk

with the flavor of blood-kisses hovering
like steam or mist or a weapon stirring
the body's carbonic magnetic motion.

Always the silence, never the sky disclosing
the stillness in death's fantasy - life and death,
love and loss, a fatalistic dream-reel

as if two mirrors facing each other reflecting
a vacant image. I remember a faint trail
of finger prints. My impatient pulse

raced into yours: deserted passions,
like roses, each one dies the same way
- our emotions mumbled

through love and into the glazed elixir
of a French kiss: In my arms you had fallen asleep
not knowing I had left.

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Published in Setu Magazine (India)

©dah / dahlusion all rights reserved

from my unpublished manuscript, Fragmented