i am a prophet
with rolled up trousers
and open jacket,
i have heard violins in Paris
yet with smudged knees
before you entranced,
voice of pale sherbet
snare drum indulgence,
you took me to the rooftops
overlooking fullest sea,
i wrote to the back of my skull
with it’s literary granite lesions,
flew with sunrise
alien chorus comes as
if both worlds imitate,
i wanted your eyes
before then went to sleep
to see the bondage we feel,
your spell fell on my ear
resistance would only be sorrow,
then to the shrieking jungle
riffs and strums
break the brittle shell on my heart
nymph and satyr
platter of desire,
i clutch the glittering prize

Ponytail by Last Exit, http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/