Quincy Morris - spies

You were the founding father of bravery

Slinging your bullets into monstrous skin

That’s how I saw you in my childish naivety

That was your title when I crowned you my king

That’s what I saw when the cream coloured bricks

Made an inverted corner in an unusual street

That’s before I lived in you spoke with you kissed you

That’s before I ventured underground, underneath

On moonlit nights I’d see reflections

Of when the warmth would flood into our inner celebration

Till Hollywood stood and severed what it could

Till that night when we tripped silent to the station

There, on the eastern border

On the eastern shore

Is where I’ve been fooled into thinking

That there’s nothing more

You left me caught, though on my sheets you linger

You left me caught between your thumb and your finger