Yesterday, through my translucent looking glass
I watched, from the deepest recesses of my desire
A girl, who in a Brooklyn bath
Washed her radiance in the hydrant's fire
I lit my last cigarette
Leaned against the concrete sill
And began to palm a beat till
The rhythm matched my swirling breath
The blue smoke ringed and broke
Into ghostly frowns and grins,
Hazing the air. Children swinging rope
Encircled her image in soundless spins
I maintained. The idyll scene's a glist
Or summer glaze, and in her dripping mascaraed
Eyes
I slipped into the dream of kiss—
The painting of paradise.
Continue
Stay in the room a little longer.
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The painting of paradise0:00 / 0:42
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Part of a living collection since September 2024.