Friday 3 April 2020

and all our Angels...


and all our Angels...




…light love’s fools the way to dusty fugue

where we should have kissed, Louise,

clinched it on that doorstep, me and you

but, oh the eyes, gripped fast in a second,

mouths centimetred inches, lip to lipstick

so close, our breaths do freeze and frigid,

straight and narrow, hard and rigid.

Highway codes and all, our Angels susurrate

laying on of feint rolling muttered hands,

fingering napes, shivering skin, fiddling hair,

flitter follicle words of stick pricking comfort,

on each hard shoulder teach common sense,

leave you sat by the verge, gulping for air.

Should’ve had each other then and there,

bent two beast backs on unforgiving stairs

until the ply planks cracked, the rods bent

from carpet burns and bold love was spent.

Ripped open your blouse, see buttons fly,

now wave them goodbye, tear off brass zip,

slash sodden lace petticoat pink panties, slip

stiff upper lipped slit and cry abandon ship,

oh - double dare, all you who enter here.

Do you remember? But can you hear them,

all our Angels, mutter promises, dream thick

that polite boys and girls deserve favour,

good things for those who patient wait in line,

follow rules, learn by heart stopping distance

in wet weather. They’d say anything, bring rain,

sooth fevered brain, wild words passions tame,

stand long with you in sophistry and in blame.

Damned her vows, we’re damned by all pledges

to sand smooth my splinters and rough edges.

But, ah, that glitter in your eyes, I see it still,

hungry gaze, wet tongue, trembling mouth

and just one slip was all it would have took.

Too late to regret ones we should have kissed,

chances missed, take comfort you were wise,

listened to all the venom our angels hissed

in the name of deferred bliss: look at your face

older now, grained, moulded by passing years

from lust red brave to custard coward tears

as all our angels remember us in their prayers.




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