Coastlines and Arcades
turn grey
and shutters on gates
dangle in the wind
like clapping hands.
Leaves carry themselves
across the road
like they are mourners
looking for a funeral,
until the nights and days
sink into one
making it appear
that nothing will rise above
the tip of the horizon.
Nothing
Nothing but the coldness
of the air
which makes the kiss
of young lovers
in the distance
seem like
a necessarily sacrifice.
Nothing but the coldness
of the air
which makes the kiss
of young lovers
in the distance
seem like
a necessarily sacrifice.
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