 My neon heart
 A scarlet tree blossoms in my blood
 Red as the God of War
|
I’d give to you my neon heart.
It blazes over the Piccadilly Circus of my capital.
A scarlet tree blossoms in my blood
and my dreams stand rampant over your sleeping form.
The night is full of stars,
red as the God of War.
A network of canals
funnels the transactions of my memory
across a planetary sky.
The circling universe
is reflected in the dark pools of your eyes,
event horizons from which nothing may escape,
nor would they wish to.
I’d paint your name in letters none but you can read,
since you planted them like arrows in my breast.
I’d throw this alphabet into the sky,
and astrologers would try to read its entrails
in sands we once walked across to a salt sea to be baptised in.
And love comes down
like a dove from an opening in the cloud.
The Jordan valley runs dry,
waiting for our destiny to pull down the rains again
upon the famished earth.
|