in the dry world ...
in the dry world
you watch rockets
that arch across the sky
in hideous trails of red light and smoke
before expanding into unforgiving
balls of fiery death
and an eerie glow
illuminates your sad black eyes
as you look from the window
to the clamouring streets below
where children run for cover
under blankets of woollen soot
and your eyes drown in a tide of anger
before you turn back to your sleepy lover
who
having filled your womb with life
rolls restlessly in bed while reciting prayers
and you wonder
if this is how dreams always end
a rocket that flares up from the blackness
and finds you waiting
with suppliant arms
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