The Colour of Sunset


You spoke an Orange Blossom in flower
To comfort me, an island of delicate scent
mapping waves, deserting gravity.

Jasmine has grown from roots,
Curled up the spine of our vessel
To a sky without words.
Rekindling a dream, your landscape
Bold, a place for my solitude
Falling to your sunset,
Cultivating colours upon cheek.

You gather, delicate
in palm a pearl to arrest me!
Lingering here, beating waves,
Thought following heart, beat
Of sun, of earth, of water
A lotus on my tongue abandoning bliss
As you raise me to Heaven.

Moist mysteries, a breathless shiver
Resurrecting proclamations,
hips of lust slowly sinking
drunk lips to my womb, birthing
New air to an oblivious descent.

The smallest flower prophesies
Spoken brush the voice from your lips
As they drown, my naked flesh warm
and requesting, obliterating syllables
Of salt and foam on the coming dawn.






(c) A Hannan




14 thoughts on “The Colour of Sunset

  1. My sigh in your eyes,
    Tears that sear your cheeks and fly,
    Endless fireflies.

    I can see them, around our bodies building walls of fire.

      • The eyes that guide your steps, revealing before you the world in its totality as well as in its smallest details, do not always shine from your face. Many a blind astronomer there are who behold infinite stars in infinite galaxies. They have but to place their hands above their chests to feel their rotating trajectories in their infinitely small reverberations. The blade entered my chest and my eyes were brought to life. Doubtless, you are such a one who ‘sees.’

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