Flowers and fragrance
embrace the air
butterflies flit around
across rooms and hallways
dainty hands and lips
moist with desire
utter sweet nothings
on deodorised shoulders
burdened with issues of the world…
Demons lurk at street corners
dirty hands
wiping sweaty brows
tired feet rushing
to reach
warmth of a dingy Hell…
Angels snuggle
to keep warm in cool fragrant rooms.
An otherwise seemingly calm and serene brief narrative infused with an unsettling hint of dystopian menace. a parable for our times?
Like it! on the one hand hands… “moist with desire” contrast abruptly with “deodorized shoulders…” a real sense of weariness from unresolved tension and the hectic nature of daily life, and I get a sense, some judgement of the natural search for pleasure. But I do love the recovery in the closing – why chose “snuggle”? brings in a warm, tender note, lightening the stresses that preceded Somehow “keeping warm” works wonderfully in “cool fragrant rooms” perhaps an echo of the contrast used earlier with a very different manner.