slow displacing
weight,
years
pooled at my feet,
afloat atop the
puddle-
a grey teardrop
in heat,
on the cusp of
clearing
up,
chiseled
from clay sleep..
or
grief
of farewell worth
forgiving,
heart in hand,
while never knowing.
spiritual evolution
won’t
keep fish alive,
poking
after fire’s out,
stitching sunlight
into song,
under dirt,
tomorrow’s trees..
parched and
balding of their leaves,
dragging arms
from holding signs,
footprints from your bed
to mine.
refused the
kiss..
in
favour
of touchlessness,
whether upon
skin,
or of what’s
within,
i
feel
nothing..
but
blanket sky,
no guilt, no shame,
just quiet
rain
in far-off
eyes.
recounts of fractured
travels,
child’s whisper stirs
upheaval,
peering back through
chained off
shaft,
whistle warns
of fog blown white and flat-
conductor laughs.
a mess that mops up
for nobody
scribbled on slate
scenery-
bleeding over
life,
painted as whose beauty
dulls the
knife.
chalk-eyed
ether-
sticky sands
expanding under..
forever layers
deeper..
heart heavy
panting
fever-
slightly shucked
shellfish in
shivers-
surface regrets..
reconsidered
upon ocean of
melting
bed–
wax
liquid
oblivion again.
driftwood
eyes
stretched
islands apart,
ice yet stuck in
throat,
smoke signal distant
boats,
seabird feather
sneeze,
in flames,
the ocean trees
flicker
me asleep.
might there be
an end
in which we
stay?
could be you’re far too
kind to say
no care
could bridge
the void between
our dreams
in
reality.
tacky, too small
towel
folded over
mirror,
powdered yet
damp,
caving sun starved
cheek,
tepid swan tears
in her sway,
no push to
speak,
curtains hang like
eyelids,
sorrows perched
on shoulder
bare,
chipped comb teeth
parting grey
hair.
a fading letter
to myself,
another season
boxed up,
visions dust the
eyelids
a teardrop
blurs dried photo
of boarded
garden
room
last rose in back
flaunts her
fleshy
hue
eternally in
bloom.
hands in the garden 
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