Angus Abranson (angusabranson) wrote,
Angus Abranson

(Poetry) Purple Kisses

Purple Kisses

 Running out of things to say
As I’m heading for the sunset
And my heaven falls,
Down on me.

Now I’m on the wrong side,
The wrong side of heaven,
And the way I feel
Is stranger than the purple kisses
Or the gypsies gold.

So still,
It chills,
Turns my bones to ice.
Then I’m....
Burning up
In the shade of night.
I don’t know what’s gone wrong.

Looking in mirrors
And seeing different faces,
Driving me insane.
And I’m running out of time,
Running out of kisses,
But I’ve got nothing left to say.

I feel the ground
Beneath my feet
Going past the scale of seven,
Heading off to nine.
Is this the end that’s coming?
Is this the end so soon?

So this is it.
(No more purple kisses)
So this is it,
Our, final, curtain call.
No last words.
No reunions.
No last drinks
Of blood red wine.
So this is it,
With no last kisses
And no good-byes.

I’ve nothing left to say anymore,
My words are discarded
Like feathers and old tin cans,
Like beginnings.
Like ends.

So this is it.
On the wrong side of heaven.
So this is it.
Driving me insane.
So this is it.
No more purple kisses.
No more kisses at all.

So this is it.
Was it worth living
Knowing that it would end?
So this is it,
And I’ve run out of time,
As I pass the scale of seven
Heading off to nine,
So why do I feel
So glad?


By A R J Abranson
(Taken from 'Wild Card Symphonies')

Tags: poetry

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