Alison Daniel
WHITE AS CAMPHOR
He melts the moon in his head
catches white as camphor breath
her scent tracing faraway thoughts
at the back of his throat, the five
fold sacrament a slight blue note
sounding softer than the husky
2am voice stepping quietly into the street
celibate and unable to sleep
with cloudy dreams of snow dissolving
phosphorescent light he can never
describe all the shades marrying him
to the death wish of his bride.
Location: Reading, England Email: lucrezia11@hotmail.com Publications: Stirring V2:E10, V2:E11, V3:E2, etc.
