Feet of clay


A high pedestal,

a favoured cause.

Here lay wreathes of twisted lashes

And warm brown irises

Irises blinded to the gap in your hem

The garnet offerings I held run across the floor

Fiery amber curves and smalls, Dips and tips

A pairing hides in the gap of that robe

It sways about my face

This draping of love

Adorned in prayer beads and childish dreams

To touch it!

Press it against my chest

And watch them heave in tandem

Breathe for breath, Rise for rise

I reach, Seeking escaped offerings

Only for my finger tips to be trapped in that gap

Pulling free I release you

A fallen god with feet of clay

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