by Seth Jani
The wind will kiss me here tonight,
Its jagged teeth clean against my body,
A lady I longed for and now can taste
Dying sweetly on my lips.
Coupling in the sheets with the
Scent of gin
The primal meaning eats away at me,
Flesh as pliable as summer grass
Bending to October's breath.
The surge of deep canals that cover
Only skeletons.
Looking for love in a flash
Between two nothings.
Terrible clods of clay trying to sculpt
A meaningful architecture.
Here in the deep dark of night
The body is a frail flicker
A wood-chip in the furnace of the world
That burns and burns and slowly succumbs
To the irony of ash.
*www.sevencirclepress.com
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