CVD19.1

-
In the evening, of day one,
Alone 
Facing to the east.
As the wind
Feels this way:
Caressing parting sighs
And I dissolve
Down the valley
(Making sure Essex Dogs plays loud).
On this inward retreat.

Some hands seem chapped and,
Where a heart is desiccated,
It is integral to this boney city.

Dried: clattered,
Clapping at nothing and an
Empty hollow: shattered
Where a terra rosa stains
Along rivlet driven tears
And life dissolves there.
Clay, lies uselessly
Fat, under
Fixated assurity.

While, my heart dissolves
Into a Rochefort's happy, holy,
Vectoring attack, it
Releases me - but
I cannot step aside
This appalling season.
For a time of real,
Bloody pumping,
We forget those trusts,
In which we know
There is no answer!

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