Cold Night Air

You are the one last love
Of dependancy watching
As I walk the road down,
Cigarette butts fallen into
The dew tao of morning
Bringing with me attitudes
Shut to the shatter of a single
Thought.

And I have not slept, planets
Falling from my eyes like rainbows
Laughing in stringency, like
The theoretical angels who
Would dance on the night
Of my ending, my ending, you gone
With nothing left to mention.

But somethng must hide
As you travel your virginity
Through the streets, trading it
For virtuous smiles as you run and run.
And then the stars you thought you had lost
Rekindle and change everything,
Wry distances that would take on
Those who cannot dream.

And nothing can change this rich wind
That will not go, this rain grave as the suicide
Who whispers 'I'm gone, I'm gone, take me home,
Take me home this cold November night',
Calling in those whose rain
Is already too distant to matter as I learn
Again to touch the slope of your breast,

Little nipple above me like a sunset.

John Cornwall

If you've any comments on this poem, John Cornwall would be pleased to hear from you.

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