My Black Dressed Diamond

Such is Barnsley,
pitiful; cultural tundra of the North,
most women so hard
they have tattoos on their teeth
and faces insipid, gaunt.

Yet diamonds are found
in lumps of coal;
because of you I cannot leave this place;
for I am lost
in all that is beautiful
when sixty seconds
I spend in your grace.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011

Ruthless Lover

The distance now tangible;
cold bus reality reminds me
hallways crossed in silence
forever volume speaks;

Her fleeting presence twice
the weight of what I’ve done;
and yet one word from my
unscratchable diamond
and to her, breathless,
I would run.

© Copyright D. Archer October 2011