Red skies and dull streets.

Today the skies are red,

today the streets are duller.

Long taut wires

from the pole right there,

today I watch them sag

like a love-struck snare.

It's not a game but a crime is it?

when I curse you in love

in the soft hypnotic voice,

like the star that flickers incessantly

when I hem the moon

inside my bent fingers.

The red skies

and the dull streets

eclipse the 2am love making,
unopened for years together

inside one sneaky corner.

Or the technicolored dream

and the never ending verse.

I reach out,

it escapes

faster than my breath

and the hazy rays of the sun that

fail to touch the ocean's deepest bed.

It is shut, it is gone.

The dream is gone.

Because the skies are red

and my mind is beautifully torn

into crumpled dead leaves

by the footsteps on dull streets.

So I curse and smile

with fidgeting fingers across my skin.

I always knew I was a sinner.

I always knew it was a crime.

______

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