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Inbetween Lovers/Blueprint (Glosa) by Ranger
(quatrain taken from 'Blueprint' by god'swife; "Dream wife" from 'Penny
Loafer Blues' by ALChemy)
Tonight I hate your hands and their craft
I cannot sleep as you do
Pressed against the cool walls
Of sudden and strange houses
I should not secretly confess like this
Love with the lips, you always insisted
But then again, you prefer emotions to be audible
And I, ever the silent I
Have invisible wings wrapped about you all the time
Remarkable pain killer to take with every draught
That bears you up, away into the arms of some foreign sun
When early gold returns new lore will be spun
Although I'm prepared to accept it may seem like I laugh
Tonight I hate your hands and their craft
Your kiss, I'd guess, is as fleeting as your scarlet dress
I have no such flamenco flame to scorch me as I rest
I sleep alone. Does it make me seem strong in
Solitude? Mine is a scarf to cloak this voice but leave the body longing
How many times I have bargained, drunk with God
To take this lust - I'll plead again tomorrow
Take my heart, take my rib
Bring me the dream wife I've glimpsed in print
But don't think of me at night when you have much to prove
I cannot sleep as you do
Many evenings die, spent waiting for your Knight
Oblivious to the irony; a tall shadow splits in directional light
Ghostly spectrum - I admit my favourite shade is jealous
Of those skeletons of your offering whom you took inside
Too physical to hide
Too visible to avoid recall
Then you tell me I'm the only one who protects you through every storm
And you reduce me just a little more
With each new figure summoned to burn, to blaze, to fall
Pressed against the cool walls
In awe of the enchantment you engender
Days fold, stretch, decrease and end remembered
As tallied photographs of wasted air which does not thrill
I wish I was that Knight of myth, of sword, of skill
For he would be a blinding tempest wrapped in silver swirl
Whereas I am just the heir within this shirt and trouser hold
Who will watch the current make your banner wave
And if love is unknown, then I ought not say
How I hate that the mystery you espouse is
Of sudden and strange houses
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