Waving from beyond the glass doors,
Hurt splashed onto the reflections
Of cars and people in the blue shop windows.
I saw my own eyes, thinking neon violet
And dim lamps, curling every eyelash,
Every almond curve, to wake up soberly to the languid
Sounds of fox-trotting symphonies.
I sat beside you speechless, awkward, while
He frenzied round to make me realize
Sufficient truths I left, for once,
In my banana pale beauty parlor.
It is sufficient yet to say: unstable,
Like wheels on ice, turning, slipping,
Spiraling myself and my thoughts
Through a winded staircase
To the top of the highest tower on the highest peak,
Like a godforsaken princess.
There's nothing but sky around you, heaven-liver,
Winter and spring, and passion, and blood
Breaking at your feet like a waterfall,
Still no drop will reach you - hell, you're clean.
I'm stuck between glass and quicksilver,
Between faltering touch and lightest mockery,
Take me down, I beg you, a prayer
Burnt into the ebbing candles, a waltz
With a disengaged rhythm, and wincing pain
From a never-to-be heartbreak.