Letters to Mie 3

Dear Mie,

In this town 

In this place 

of clear skies and 

green fields lies a promise 

a pact we made

in the evening of our consummation

In this town 

In this place

of dusty side paths and dry taps lies a pledge 

a pact we made

in the heat of our passion 

In this town of slaves and slavers

lies the remains of a blood pact that bind us with hopes

to the adulation of a puppet show 

do not wait 

for the ressurection 

do not wait for the restoration

In this town 

In this place

of broken pledges lies a precision 

the threads of duty 

that bind us to the hopes of intellectual dreams

In this town 

In this place 

of beautiful promise

made in the heat of ignorance

In this town 

of roaming spirits 

and portly goblins

lie a promise of egg shells 

to be broken

do not ask

of our kisses below the altar 

do not ask 

of our manifestoes delivered 

in the shadow of a promise!

In this town 

In this place 

of multi billion tricycles 

and NO VACANCY signs 

lies a hammer to crush

packages of idealized manifestoes

and spill rejection into 

the eyes of stupefied reason

In this town 

of regulated dressing 

lies an antidote to the infatuation of our promise

do not come 

to seek the pleasures 

we once shared

do not hurry to spread 

your legs to the ruins of our vigour!

In this town 

In this place

of gates and rules 

and tick infested floors 

lies the grave of remembered pleasures 

of remembered pledges 

in this place of official amnesia lies the eternity 

of ill- used words.