A ****** latex glove.
The rhythmic breathing of a room full of machines
and the dim light glowing on white paper.

Is he your patient?
Well, I guess. But night shift is coming in soon.

We step out into the bright corridor.
You look at me – really look at me -
something grave in your eyes, a great expectation.

Thank you-
I interupt. Merry Christmas.
And something rising and falling and blooming and crumbling between us,
like his chest in that dim light.
A promise.

Walking in Flanders is
paper poppies against grey
rabbit and cherries
dancing elephants
a cold long room.
People that are not, anymore.
Your green eyes on mine
but always
in a grand display of platonism,
if only for ourselves.

Last night you made a tentative wish
Upon a shooting star I caught for you
You closed your eyes and I
Saw sorrow shimmering in your face
Later, when we softly talked,
our voices intermingling
With the sound of falling orbs,
You told me that your wish
made you sad
Because it was not even yours to make
And you don't believe
in miracles anyway.

give me
platin bones
and
sapphire eyes
a brand new me
made out of lies

the days when I cannot see you stretch out like gum,
wrap themselves around me,
engulf me
in a strange and dark trance.  
when you finally come to me
on hushed friday nights
when the stillness of the city
lies thick on top of it
like a blanket,
it feels like waking up.
you take my hand
in the harsh white light of the tram,
but you will not look at me.
instead, you look down
on our intertwined fingers,
stroking my thumb with yours.
we talk about how things might be,
soon. soon.
in the dark, we kiss
until you can fall asleep.

I think
I fell in love
under criss cross
red striped
skies
color against black
It wasn't cold, that night,
I was still freezing.
You didn't keep me warm,
it doesn't matter.
I can't remember what you felt like
or looked like
or how you're always right.
My head was spinning
as I fell through the shifting light
And now all day long I've been feeling sick
and nervous and
fine
and I cannot sleep thonight.

Our little film set

has been abandoned months ago

but we are still here

stopped acting for cameras

that won’t record anymore

the light around us turned white

and everything blurred

when the dust started setting

on our film reel

laying forgotten in the backroom

of the shut down cinema

with it’s steel roof glistening

in the late afternoon’s sun

we will never be found

encaged in our very own reality

the smallest part of heaven

we were ever granted