Today was sunny but I wrote a rainy poem, late at night/early morning. I like how the poem came out shaped like the Hancock building, though any semblance is subliminal (as is always the case with the Hancock Center).
Blue Watercolor in 15 Lines
Heartsweat cools air across the midwest.
Like dune spice, lungs wither upon
parting from so pregnant a perfume. All
roads lead to the Loop. Patroclus, Lily,
I miss the figure eights you skated 'round
my heart last May. Bitterness laces every
habit, your letterhead callous while ever
empathic. Even laying together in public
I shook with doubt, too afeared not to ask.
Equivocal devotion while slamming about
in tin teacups. Premeditated care, penmanship
you could only call love. My suspicions twined
asunder when you asked me to dance. Lies told
in airports always remind me of Casablanca -
how could you?
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