x Separation x
The humming bell of our demons knolls like an apparition, as a shock of axes chop away, for expectant fires.
Junkies, whores and hustlers protest in cursed tongues, as they languidly pass the creaking, ancient waterwheel.
The doomed, plangent gates of this graveyard, by where we stand, are rusting and hissing, in this blurring rain.
Our whirlwind, snowglobe hearts must now tragically surrender to every last sinew of our separation, forever.
Our charmed minds were once the striped colours of a circus tent.
Our orchestral stomachs would flip and spin, like a trapeze artist.
Our swirling souls would ascend, like a hot-air balloon.
No more deer-eyed, lingering looks.
No more firework, phonograph embraces.
No more cotton-loom, star-crossed kisses.
No more crystal carnivals; lullaby jewels in absolute bloom.
No more fervent crowds, to applaud our choir of love, from a lucky number sky.
We can no longer be won, like a prize at the fair, as forgiveness hangs in abeyance.
x J J E x