CYAN CITY

 

Cyan city,

bulletproof dusk city:

your glass bones

tower above us

looking down

through sombre smog,

 

buried foundations

decaying

under flower beds 

laid pretty.

 

Aging city,

romance stained red city:

your walls are built

with artist’s hands,

painted by the footsteps

of foreign lovers,

​

numbing whispers 

crisp in British air

turning our hearts

purple and gritty.

​

Novel city,

mirror crowned aweless city:

ambitious youth

dreamt these streets,

carved new paths 

from unwritten poetry,

​

voices unborn 

ferment in feminist bodies

with ideas that wilt

without common history.

​

Polar city,

concrete clustered steel city:

inherent greed 

is burning you from within,

your pavements are grey

and your skyscrapers lonely,

 

past encounters lost

between hand-me-down skin

and factories bathing

in their own sin.

 

Cobalt city,

my love for you

is wearing thin.

​