state of confusion
Etched upon ivory, raw emotions exposed,
against cool walls, scorched skin leans in,
this is more than that which was proposed,
porous Plaster-of-Paris painted from within.
Scarab colored circles are kaleidoscoping,
we intuit one another instinctively,
shadows obey, inner doors are opening,
culminating in a kiss of poetry.
No, he isnít sweet, but he suits the night
cracking, clapping shaking earthís core,
calling us to echo in a sanctified fight,
primitive cue of what has come before.
Thought is lost in drumming meditation,
the world has telescoped down to this,
lives joined in absolute affirmation
ending with the promise of a kiss.
© 2000 Corinne Bailey