Friday 19 November 2010

End

snake-breaths
through the open window

curtains dance
open on a drained day
devoid of weather

– the skin of the clouds
pale,
the cataract sun blanketed
on the mattress of sky.

a sickle moon
carves the heat away

despite quilts
and central heating.

fingers weave
like wicker
warm over cold
warm over cold.

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