Author: John Everex

the slow burn whispers
hide your heart-song in the embers
I relight the match

arid sound of wind
the flickering monochrome
Plato’s long shadow

early morning light
wake on warm tarmacadam
exhilaration

yews overhanging
treading bitter compressed chalk
toes sliding on grime

and the sun continues
sinking through a carmine end
to a silent dearth

I can see the lights
velux-framed and softly-dimmed
and inside she waits

spin in wild extremes
reversing pathetic cures
remembering youth

but our common sense
is an aging monolith
a rusted anchor

so we learn to dwell
in a perfect fallacy
a chintz fantasy

he is always there
my whispering companion
thriving on my slide

arresting myself
on tired whitened fingertips
I pause and breathe out

but familiar tones
imperceptible talons
call me out and down

pressing my shoulder
her hands cover my eyes
words hushed by my ear

yet this blind embrace
binds me, turning sour and curdles
bile and salt-sweat skin

white flecks of ash catch
the soot from a thousand fires
smoke hiding my tears

a phone is ringing
chirping in the empty rooms
nobody can hear

streetlight slices rust
cutting shadows from the air
picking motes and smoke

until headlights switch
spotlighting the moving shades
and waking the dawn

the words prepare us
a soft-scripted liturgy
to remove our guilt

the whispers linger
echoes scratching the render
scraping the brickwork

but the silence lasts
longer and still reaching out
blind groping fingers

the underpass sign
surface rust scarring intent
decaying welcome

the timing is off
words lost in contradiction
spiral intimate

uncover corners
hiding in open attics
reveal those boxes

lying half asleep
dreams of other dimensions
appear tangible

I examine them
intricacies and facets
slipping elusive

the ancient city
reaches beyond the suburbs
into reverie