Business
By Gilbert
Thu, 27 Apr 2006
- 1741 reads
Business
With dwindling claws of sun
scraping at the city`s roots,
how you stare without expression
across the depth of an empty street,
with your identity neatly folded,
has the common touch of tragedy.
Desire gnaws; a twisted love
which has no existence
other than this moment.
A car shudders briefly
to a climax.
As caught in a sudden halo
of dying sun,
your upturned face flares
a pale goodbye.
I close the curtains, lift the phone.
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