Spellbound

[cornflake]

Night is tender and I am spellbound.
On this balcony songbirds are all dead.
Could you somehow speak to me on the wind
or perhaps in a telephone call?
I lie and smoke and think of your
hip joints.

With every moan you moved me closer;
with every hand upon leg came my death.
Fumes are lust on my body and
long-legged horses sailed by at half twelve.
If I walked like them, I'd go to your eyelashes

and pluck them. Warm as a tomb I lie
and follow the lines of my mind on Orion.
The nylon earth breathes and I,
I chased Narcissus down the side of a watch.
You stand on a white-blue plain as far away as your eyes.

I could dream suspended by wire.


Hattie Samuel