Burgess Needle

Dead Stop
  
 
Later, I eluded leaves,
heard Mozart at the end.
I was amazed at the end.
 
After the flush and gasp of love
I knelt by the erotic curve of your side
To hear Mozart’s 21st concerto in C.
 
We were at the Hotel Pierre,
With its chandelier of prisms
Where I peel away your radiance,
            colors of autumn.
            light splitting
Into blue, red and green
Echo of wild desert grass.
 
Later, I fell a great distance
            branches grazed me
            there was no time
To recount even one passionate act.
 
I was speechless as I fell,
            though not silent,
            looking down to see
                        a glass chandelier
                        rushing up.
 
My voice arrived,
            muffled as a shriek.
One more of life’s inquisitions.
 
In the end,
            your name punched
            canyon walls,
                        lost itself in arroyos, finally
                        came to a rest some time after
I slammed to a dead stop.