‘And in a golden glass I see the dream-wished day appear—and wait’
– Joy Hester
These city lights illuminating
every brushstroke between us.
How fierce, the brash of black.
So perfect, the relief of bay blue.
You, standing either side of yourself.
The day closing into an essay.
Before me, a striped amphitheatre.
Canvas with a built-in mirror.
Streaks of old Victoria Bridge, a camel
on the skyline. Two circles, up front
hingeless, imposing and direct.
Stop signs to the end of the world.
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