A Tincture Of Tears

A tincture of tears and a triple cross for you
Enraptured by alchemic kiss our teeth dissolve to glue
Not holding hands but brushing arms while walking through the park
Your smile’s a heliolithic God that all men bend before

I gazed up at the Sussex Downs: a poem froze in clay
Enacting all those Copper’s songs as in some ancient play
Then further down in Brighton the sibilant sea did rush
I trembled like a Venetian blind remembering your touch

A nightingale choking on a worm
True beauty’s always tempered by the finger print of pain
So I’ll sing praise to your imperfect face
And never count on nothing but your finger nails