Smoking Hour

The languor red hot calmness staid Stretch on by the balm and spray And splays you out along the way And reaches up to pull me in And leers with an evil grin And boredom saps what's left And spits you out an empty thing Long corridors with moulded doors Whose rooms are drowning in asbestos Poison flowing from the rafters Mud encrusted, eaves of iron The morning's wasted I've betrayed it Lying here intimidated By the curves of midday shadows Following the suns ellipse I see your hands move from hips to lips Amber cherries, flowing fire Exhalation: smoking hour The languor blеaching calmness played With morning sun, long summer days Thе twining fullness, balm and spray That spreads me out like the wind touched hay I see your hands move from hips to lips Amber cherries, flowing fire Exhalation, smoking hour I see your hands move from hips to lips Amber cherries, flowing fire Exhalation, smoking hour