Prepare for thy God

Under sheets of blue cotton you breathed back into me

Something repetitive or grey
Something fed with anxiety, the shakiness of a half drunk animal

Your white skater shoes are left to think under the kitchen table all night
Collecting the smell of the laundry, the fridge, the tea
They step and trip all day, they are laced and undone
They step over mine, and stain

My mother called to say

"In Germany they have a word for it: too heartbroken to carry on.
I lost the house, the horses, the rolling hills.
I lost the red kites flying overhead.
I lost Patti Smith, Buffy and my prodigal daughters."

Who curled up, curled into themselves, curled their hair
Thought about running away, red boots in the mouth of open space, sleet and rain.
But instead soaked it up like a bed of wet moss.

Those lemon trees that grew and withered, and grew all over again
They watched you tread water,
Swim out too far
Kick step and float

You wish for darker, warmer
The mind and the stars, the sand and it's numbers
You want to be backed into a corner
Left and loved until you are sick
Loved until you are no longer sick

From the East
Things will be stolen
You will need to grow up too fast
You will see the white cliffs of Dover
You will anticipate the end of the world

I've even prayed about it
You're my star

You will get into small places
Your feet will crumble beneath you

Birth control
Lace
Lip balm
Neck kisses
I am here; soft, lost, a little dead
You are the foundation of my house

It's all so careful
The kitchen is clean by midnight
The shadows are dark and deep
I look at the clock
I no longer sleep
I ache
I drift
I play

Out and in between
there must be a strong correlation between lust and waking up for a glass of water
Walks along the canal
between love and blisters
batteries that spill over the cassette
once held by your hands
when we were little ones

apologies written over my head
deep in the earth, over my head
under the ground, over my head

blacker than my teeth from the womb
left too long in darkness, unable to resurrect

speak to me with charity
a shot glass of thought
muddled up by me, in the mirror
a child
(a person)
a kid
(a soul)
no one
(everyone)

written into my muscle
like January
"I am so sorry"

We talk about music and people, mostly
There’s a bumblebee in the curtains
Stuck in the window and the shades
There’s a bumblebee outside

I let him take my hair down
I let him on my skin
Passive
Aggressive
Gentle
Active

We walk in silence
I wear green, for once
I cut my hair
The wounds heal