First Sight.


The burning bridge behind me, entrance to my history
silhouetted by flaming seconds, the licks of my days.
A timeless ticking bomb disguised as beating heart
and blue eyes, tearing forever once the rough death
of smooth snapping skin and the coming cry of breath.

Now touch is given creation, the greatest Braille
slipped through fingers, a rosary of lost sensations.
Lovers hair combed in secret, the morning chorus
our synchronised breathing, we took sharp curves
and found the nervous fit in our blind feeling edges.

The endless next calls through purple curtains,
the brass bell rings, the incense chokes, candles
smoke the marble, Gods inglorious invitation drops.
Dumb refusal curls on rebel angel lips, never looking
down while falling. Yet, up the telescope I am travelling
like a look towards the mind that first thought to watch.



John G.Hall©2003