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