I’m not sure how to build
new walls with splintered hands;
debris blocks the blood flow,
capillaries dwindle and are reborn
away from the disaster zone.
Dust settles before I can set the first brick
and the ground is too slick with
moisture for cement to dry.

On drooping branch
sugar swelled beneath my flesh,
iron (III) oxide coat shined
under caresses of springtime rain.
You bit through my skin,
teeth grazing tender core,
juice seeping through relentless jaw
and my coat shined
under caresses of internal rain.

I can’t catch my breath
as throat swells after smoke
you exhaled behind you;
you didn’t look back as euphoria hit.
I can’t catch my breath
as salty tears dilute my blood
and erythrocytes shrivel
leaving gas stranded in my lungs
after each grudging, shaky breath -
I can’t catch it,
it begs for freedom in endless sky
over the suffocating pressure inside my chest;
I can’t catch my breath,
I can’t catch my breath.

I am painting birds
in dripping watercolours,
their feathers plush against the page
and lines a vague whisper
lost under those soft, diluted hues.
I am looking, gazing
blank, the white of the paper
tones down the expression of running brush
and my heart fails to miss a single beat.

Her mocha sits across from my chai latte, milk and cinnamon under angel white foam shied by that coarse, mud brown elixr of caffeine and antioxidants. Her panini steams trails of chicken and grilled tomato through the air while my coconut and raspberry cake slice sits dense on the plate while I stab at it with a plastic fork; she stirs her drink with a partially engulfed spoon between sips. She texts her friends on the latest Apple extortion and I write jilted thoughts on the word processor of a smartphone that struggles to squeeze into the back pocket of my nameless jeans. The sugar clings to my throat as she fills hers with Silk Cut cigarette smoke. How do you read between these lines?