Chronophobia

When it’s late enough, and sleep is faint
like reminiscent lips—the night
a lover—I watch
the sunset in reverse: watch
traces of the aurora
blink, at first
resigned, and bloom, dawning
old beginnings of a twilight
dreamed in solace. Here,
beauty is both amnesia
and recall: the past
in present, kissing away
the birth of tomorrow.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s