...a deathly serenade...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AA
respite from the abyss, the dry hum...though
bumping into Alex along the canal, Leila escaped
my vision and slipped into the night air foggy with
our conversation still on the tip of the tongue...
vanish towards
candle lit pursuit towards death
soft tissue of passing away
the taste of the back of the eyelids
now forever
the hue of nothingness personified in matter
the smell of the sky...
the reap of daylight?
...the night seemed to just appear, the
casual flicker of the street lights switching on, the
sound of the clock now becoming louder, and the
thought of escape descending into a slight
realisation... where has the time gone..? it would
seem a question that could taste the light of solid
manifestations, I know, such as spending an hour
stroking a pussy, or maybe time working...though
beyond the candor lives the oily residue of time
amounting to very little, I thought...
...she was alone at the edge of the canal,
eyes staring out into a world reflected inside her
soul, catapulting the algae, bits of paper strewn
here and there in a gentle panorama of
universe...she couldn't see where I stood, as I was
on the corner of the entrance from Queensbridge
Road, close to where she vanished into the dark,
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