Love Tower

Yellow mist,
the distant tower.
It shines in golden light.
Partly glimpsed on this chill hour of twilight.

Walls of metal, smooth.
I lift my head to feel the texture,
wet, next to my skin.
It hums with love within.
That thing, trapped,
I saw once.

I put my left ear to it.
Smells of bronze.
Long and deep.
Cool and distant,
but warm beneath.
Love so near but locked away.
Waiting for a different day.

I grasp a vine.
It creaks as I pull it taut.
I climb the fortress wall,
foot over foot.

I pass a window,
the glass is black.
My grey face peers back.
Behind me a cold pink sun
wails in sadness and tries to touch me.
It fails.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.