sepia horizon

the city left you like a cold woman
the constant evening and harsh lines disappeared into ruins of your personal grudge against her
it had been hard steel, like a strong man flexing
pressing your mind into overload, a tempting state of fear
the vermilion of the sun was disguised by ashy charcoal skyscrapers;
they are content to just touch, but you are not

when she comes back, her hair blows into the overcast sky
she is the Lady Godiva of your dreams, wearing her beauty like a veil
but her identity is apparent by the reaction she receives
this severe, grey reality melts into silent ardor, overtaken by warmth so sweet
the russet of her skin under the heavens

you have lost your speech, only uttering small noises
quickly silenced by the softening into a whirl of a sandy tornado;
twisting and tickling your skin
her arms reach your core and you never felt her like this
now that she’s a dry, blank piece of paper to moisten with your parting lips
bleeding out words like hot poppies; cautious yellow eclipsed by wanton orange
and you consumed her in like a hungry man

her silhouette turns back to dust in front of the grey light of the moon
just blinking your eyes leaves heavy chunks of her in your palms
sliding through your fingers like running water
solid as the ground beneath your bare feet
you taste metal; maybe from the heavy heat
which is heading into expected frigidity
and you just can’t compete with this
this emptiness

halfway through the night you’re awake; the clouds snuffing out the sky
like the last cigarette in your only pack, underneath the tip of your boot
it slides into the sand, accepting its fate
settling into a searing grave without regrets
you are jealous, but this solitude becomes you