Collarbones

Closing time at the gallery, hellbent for beauty Only four minutes with the Florentines Side-eyed Madonnas present the white rose Veiled and alluring in blue repose The child on her lap with golden halo Here he is. There he goes Here he is. There he goes Here he is. There he goes Accompanied by angels who play tambourines And thieves assailed by black-winged things There comes from his side in luxurious streams Blood that pours incarnadine Here he is. There he goes Here he is. There he goes On the road home a river of red tail lights And houses all clustered in beige and white I want to drape my head in precious stones And feel your kisses on my collarbones And feel your kisses on my collarbones