Mediated Cities I (draft 1)

Her gold scream cracked dawn on Reykjavik;

A fissure piercing frozen sleep, prodding nocturnal workers
and night-long drinkers in numb retreat, 

severing lovers' conjoined limbs with the fierce rebuke 

of restored sight.

In sharp key of hard light two hours high 

her scream refracts off Esja's back;

long geometries paint box houses -
moving swathes of evasive darkness hugging edges,
avoiding the lock 

The third hour. As though the city exists through writing

through blue ice my bold scream pries open its distant

my own exotic lies.

glaciers folding into dark

That penurious dawn in Reykjavik that cracked to a slivered fissure
now a warm hearted hum, death before bloom
Four hours 

dying in muted climax