The Look That Crashed
Copyright (c) 1993, Michie Sidwell
All rights reserved


 The Look That Crashed


  Eyes like heaven
  Lips
  That portray the sweating beams
  Of hell
  A paused cinder
  Antagonized by the vulture
  Of your hands
  Diving down silhouette kisses
  Pronounced like strewn stains
  Aching a broken bed
  A distressed calling
  Dressed by the scant
  Of your scent
  Leans over my parched inventory
  To smoothly unwavel
  The hall-light flicker
  Entering zones deployed in infinity
  Awake to the chokened glance
  With the dust
  Coughed out of your eyes.

