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Morningside Heights
We couldn't be more different.
I, seeing dark punched out of
Light, drawn by the
Sweep of a wasted city --
Fuses blown, black soot
Halos -- what pulses
Forbidden, misplaced?
I, raising my eyes to steel
Teased out of sky -- desire
Elongated -- vertical lines.
Framing its own picture
Starkly against grey.
Building blocks of dark.
You laugh,
Tugging on leashes of
Our obligation:
Darkness on a body of light
Is a dangerous gash.
3 comments:
reading this while listening to miles davis' blue in green renders this the best poetry i've read the whole week. whether it's the poem or miles davis.. well.. ;)
Oh I love this poem so much. :)
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