Summer was a grey affair;
Salty perfume fogged the air,
Shown up in lamps’ night lights.
Flotillas of vixens, sirens, valkyries
Forced reverbing cacophony
From walls at darkling hours.
Each night I’ve heard the screaming
Echoed in the tidal rolls
Of water at the witching hour.
Summer was a grey affair;
Seam’d with ladies debonair
Sirens’ perfumes fogged their hair.
Lucid liquors, cigarettes,
Linger ‘midst crush-black curls.
Lying. My spoils. Antiquated words.
Summer was a grey affair;
Subtle stratagems; Perfume’s spoils.
Perpendicular to the square.
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