autumn subsides to the first frost
skyscraping mirrors wince now
as the sun gives them her back
the city’s bustle fades to an echoI can see the caliginous climate
inhaling souls from peoples mouths
lank & luteous wisps shelter my face
as your pout warms the tip of my nosebut I find no warmth behind your lashes
only these obdurate maelstroms
– or what they call
the windows to your bitter soul
© May 18th 2007? 2006?
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