by Aneurin Quinn Evans | October 2, 2019
Noon estranged all living things,
Taking black heaven;
Sucking in the sea, the (seven) hills.
Irretrievables progressed, are away. We edge off
The rim of everything; the sea stasis attends
A gull’s catechisms, face wrapped in
Evening wedding veils
That genuflect diaphanously
To the ruins, Roman places. Basking silence–
The world’s work, deceitful as the sun.
The sea couldn’t sink hunger, setting its all-jaw haunting
On eternity, so took the town’s three quarters, opened a museum,
Lined its stone men staring unseeing for no-one.
They do not know
The deeps are cold, or where the world went.
The pour of moon and days are choked
To vacancy. Still, creation breeds caricatures:
Sea-shells for eyes! Man hanged for daring.
His inchoate boot and great valved shoot
Lopped off, like summer poppies at Gabii.
My heart fevers
Under the abominable absolutions of sunset, maddening
Distances, unholdable as I. Oh god, am I
An amnesia like the bird fading painted on its maker’s portico.
Looking to you,
Heart cupped as a crocus to your smile setting
That evening in some sort of certain grace
But in your eyes those skies darken
Words by Aneurin Quinn Evans. Art by Emily Reed.