You left a verdigris
on my spirit and
though it’s been polished
many times by the stuff wind
is made of and
many times by sinister
demons of shady demeanor,
it remains.
You ransacked
my lovemyths,
taught me that, after our dance
guttered out,
the leftover smoke
would ever stay with me,
inceptive, perfumed.
Oh my dear
it’s lovely to know
that some lessons are
more delicious,
more evocative
on the tongue
than others.
Even those of us
used by the years
understand that
everything there is
walks a derelict path
Before it stumbles and
surrenders to the night
Again, I am quite “grabbed” by your lines, that is, your sense of (or commitment to?) lineation. And I, too, have a passion for LA, though I haven’t lived there for 25 years.
Again, thank you so much.