Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘Angel. Moon.’

Angel. Moon.

Through his cigarette smoke, the moon (no, not the moon, not here, not in this poem, as over-used as angels and lit cigarettes after sex) but he can’t help it. He sees the moon, hazy (of course) with wings and smouldering stars (at least not twinkling) and ash, not fire but dust like her, in the room behind him, while he leans on the hotel’s balcony rails, cold metal (obviously) […]

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