XXXI

by Ted Elliot

I saw a girl with one leg
over the window sill,

she was my immaculate
dream. Who do you

need? Feeding each other
magic off our fingers,

the wind wipes tears
off my face. It is the

presence of a universal
experience. When love

breaks down, she will
smile through her maquillage,

painting the streets
with gold.

Oh, faithful
red paper box,

your silken clasps,
like tiny stars:

determine our fate;
affirm our snarky

self-aggrandizement,
lest we are exhausted

by nullified voices.
I’ve drowned in

incense. I’ve encountered
eyes without a face.

But still, I think of you,
out there, enchanted

by la nuit fantastique
your peridot eyes:

elusive.


XXXI by Ted Elliot is a Blasted Tree original poem.

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