Cave into me from the flowing blackness
behind subway windows, reflective of desire,
when the eye is lashed - dream trap ecstatic,
when I make up new geometries,
you're the golden ratio to my arch of dust.
Will you let me go, let me jump off the chaise,
run away with the driver, frail wings careless,
let me bloom into the egg shell man
I was meant to be, a poison seed
engulfed in turbid amnios.
We'll birdwatch and trainspot the apocalypse,
tired with a passion on Monday mornings,
a sordid mind's springs unwind so weary,
till we grow old and boring
and the universe puts us to sleep.