Transpoesie - Poems

THRESHOLDS

It is a rickety, dream-dipped city,
blinking its evening rooms, biting
with a punctured silhouette
of Jack-o’-Lantern teeth.

                           The darkness is shining
         and deep beneath the skin of sleep
the flat is damp and beating.
We are wee beasties in the fat pulp
of a flower’s pointed heart.

                       Colour of the golden hour
                    through an eyelid. Egg yolk.

The night cracks open,
honeycombs, constellates the lambent households
and hangs us up as ghosts to dry in arabesques.

                                    Sudden cobwebs.

We are so many distant orbs and somewhere,
down a dream-lit, lacing corridor I lift the veil,
like a bead curtain, and whisper their names.

Iona Lee - THRESHOLDS from Transpoesie on Vimeo.