I walked among fire
And felt the heat,
The hearth the life,
The world a barren canvas

I took those steps
And found white light my pure feeling
Shared smiling lips amongst ourselves and took on lovers
In feelings we took for each other, bundled
Like reeds so thin

We walked together, arm in arm
Pebbles scattered at our feet in the red dirt,
And thought blood, blood
blood can be our cry from now

We took those days in hand
And led them on
Dried their succulence in the sun
Tasted never
Not for their promise.

And that promise wilted, like so many flowers
Those white lights grew dimmer
As we walked towards them through rushes, our fingers
Spider-like on the veil of what we wanted.

We got there, and saw the light was out
The candle never burned, the feeling never lived
Our eyes for what could be
Wetted with what was
And we lived on in the world of short, long days.

I feel it still
That cold, beckoning wind
In the shutters of the leaves and
The spiral ice of puddles

The yellowing leaves
Ochre metal pots to Autumn
Shallowly answer me
Reluctant forms of wishes.

My hopes defy corners
Spring upped from mountain earth
Bristles of naked grass
Iron grey like the wreaths of the North

What I longed to feel attached to
The winds buried
And broke into a million pieces
To call my name in the morning glitter

Little trickle of delight
Dews morning games
Calligraphic nonsense adorns
My chess-board smile

Hope is made resilient
By proud eyes, puffed out-chests
Full of hot air stoked by flushes
At other people's stares

Knowing what you want is putting a price on peace
A candle out for tomorrow
A loss in the books for someone's father
Grinning tobacco teeth

Hello, hello, it's hard to shout
From a grassy hill on a street corner
Traffic crashing, mouths yawning arguments
Cities bending in to listen

Truthfully engaging means
Rings around ankle joints
Joints around palms
Joints

Furrowed brows may tell me
Brail hips give me hope
But candle-light won't tell me
You'll feel like tomorrow.

To be alone
A flower without a stem
A cloud without the rain
An eye without the lid
Light in through all to see

To be myself
An ox without a yolk
A wish without a future
A word without a lip to speak it
Flying away from deaf ears

To be lightning
Bright and dangerous in the dark
Ears to hear beyond sound
Mind unfettered by company
Hope uniquely free, uniquely so

Mask left on my dressing table
Chest left in my drawers
No ear at the door,
Oh to be alone

Lacquer metal, finest degree
Eggshell maiden dancing, skirts turned free
Tossed leaf nestle, a glory in a hidden theatre
Dark privileged passions creep in and listen.

The dirt around your feet compacted,
The dress around your friends contrived
But you look so natural in those seams of transplacental
Defied by the native over-leaf

What privileged thought found comfort there
What Rubenesqued dresses blushed in joy
At white marble hugging thought
And privileged smells adorning your excitement

The path beyond your feet leads nowhere
For your sight spins where your eyebrows lead
Round and round in close circles
Amongst those eyes who cracked your paint

Cloudy day
Winds that stroke the mud
Flowers' wrinkling faces

What lore did you tell me
About the sun shining on flour skin
The beach adding salt for flavour

Kind words you had
For when we said farewell
I wonder where they were between us then

Don't tell me what names you have
For long cold summers
And wasted days

Pillows are too soft
Mattresses too much like hugs
Lips move between lies

What deep end is this
Found between my eyes
Back again in sketchy lines

And the long grind

What dispirited purpose cups to my ear
Or orifice sufficed at being a sense of the world
What hands can claim to be my lips
Speaking to the world they claim to feel

What broken envy feels
Those scattered ivy fields
Of hopeful grey sent on its way
Of years and months poured into the day?

What gotten fear keeps me
Chained cherish to the time I should
Be walking on to other things
That make me feel the good?

I found a barrow cut by the wheel
And ghoul-hands rotten roots a-reach
From smoothed walls cut to seem rough
And grief for spirits frothing at the ducts.

I found some feeling of myself
Sippy-cup filled with mediate dreams
I made up words to keep myself from gotten
I sank into quicksand on my back