The Residence

Underneath a common roof
Held by corroding white pillars
The fragile existence
Of us who dwell here,
A delicate secret
Buried underneath
This part of the world
Characterised by books, pens,
Posters, convoluted ideas,
Left, right and things in between
Noisy conversations,
Whispers.
Underwear flailing in the gaze
Of a wanton sun.

A brotherhood
Sharpened to a poignant intensity
By hardened desire
Finding release
In some of the chambers
Of this great organ.
A world of mist
As smoke rises from the tip
Of cigarettes
Like some wraith
Haunting an abandoned tomb;
An almost insignificant dream
Before being sucked into a vortex
Of a terrible reality.

In this rite of passage
Between dark and light
Or perhaps light and eternal darkness
When we are neither egg nor bird,
Not flower, not fruit,
We are boiling in fraternal love
Within white-washed walls
As we share that last cigarette.
____