Devons

WE BREAK ACROSS THESE TRAM LINES I DRAW

by Haz



I draw them with lines of reflections through their steps
enough space between them
for your space within my head
enough rain awash
to quiver certainty from pavements
so the tossing bawl of commuters shadows
give enough in an outline
to collect your scent in


the luster of the muted tones
just brown enough to smell of cigar
the matched disorder of umbrellas from the same shop
too planned to be meant with sincerity at all



and so it becomes made cold enough
to be the cold of your engine leaving at dawn
far too planned
for a heart to break with sincerity at all.
Snow chippings lightly disintegrate
in the memories we caught


their movements shredded slow,
their breeze the patterns of a heart blown
all alone in a breath
they huddle against this weather I paint.
I unfurl to your voice
shout at feelings still left



Wonder, wonder, will the watcher gather
the world beneath this massing's flight?
The suited stamping at his own shadow/ a veteran aiming his blurry barrel
shooting at the trams breaking lines.
See the dress tug against the teary season
bleeding back
beyond seasons behind?




Do they even know I draw fleeing's at all?
that I'm trapping sobs at the tip tap of toes
that somewhere is the advancing army of
a world of doors shutting that can't open anymore?




Maybe they'll say, they're nice umbrellas, they won't smell cigars
and think snow is snow
think they all planned this journey together
the trams run to time to a planned destination
But I walked the lament of those distraught streets
feel the panic
See reflections at my feet
Maybe they'll think nothing than that they journey towards sun
But you belong in their reflections.
I know why they run.