Scorch
In all the
tower blocks
we are naked
our fractious,
abraded flesh
retaliates, it
is scraping
sky.
She wakes with
the change,
leaves the
tinder of the sheets -
air alchemical
smoke
this dream.
Her lungs wait
at the window,
fevers of each
border.
Fruitbats soot
the nascence
of the labial
fall into mind.
Work is
everywhere. The hoot of waking trains -
shifts shift,
working hand & steamy coffee.
Dawn is
theorem, our night never happened
we stand above
silt
in the museum
of heat.
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