there's an ache in my heart
i tried to fix it with bad art

I couldn't fully contemplate 'dark thoughts'
until I had them -
I never belittled them or doubted their existence,
simply their lack of presence made me somewhat
ignorant

I couldn't fully recognise them in myself,
until one night
sat alone, so so alone,
and wondering if it would ever be morning again,
and contemplating whether or not I really cared.

i.

dusk melts into walls
and corners,
the sun begins to dip,
below the earth
little islands of
light and shadow.

ii.

the light softens,
carries us towards
the sentry keeper
of the blue earth
the night’s noble
gaze.

iii.

rose-wood and indigo,
immense cloud
washed-out like
faded denim,
stars in summer’s hollowy skies.

iv.

as dark as a tinted window
the land breaks free
from the sun, dissolves
into shadows bent
into a thousand shapes
and altitudes
like softening rivers
of the mind.

v.

uncovered, the night
forgets it flowers and its
prisms, relents to magical
seas of black ink.

We strolled to a halt in our own space.
We seven, spanned the open pre-dawn park
Prepared in dew.
We gazed up and east with wingless chirps

To where the rustling is neither wind
Nor the highest leaves blowing, but
The laughter of two hours prior--
The bubbling of water and endings--

As it takes my greatest sin to realize
That life is what it is.
We could lie in the grass but
Our taut necks mean/give more

And if we stay long enough,
Stare long enough
Into the faded blue-gold world yet to rise,
Maybe our eyes will never close

And with them our steps
****** forward and away

Imagine a chain
flowing from your heart,
hooked to the center of the universe.
Chains are not light, neither are the stars.
And neither is life.
When your chest feels tight,
and you can't carry your heavy heart any longer, believe that you are made of stardust.
The stars are pulling you back home.

grumble grumble
mutter mumble
coffee stumble
back upstairs

power shower
five to the hour
stubble trouble
need a shave

The mirror talks to me  
she says
'look at what you see'
I see
me in
duplicate
triplicate
quadrupled
and the glass shows every line and all the time in front, behind me and in passing where they'll find me one day glued into the wallpaper
a shape
a shadow lifting in the settings of a garden where a Rose that blooms is watching me go by.

but I'm shaved and feel quite sane now, this is how my mind can wander through the Monday morning ritual

I have bacon in the frying pan and baked beans on the plate
though I'm late and Kate can eat them, Kate's the cat and she quite likes men
I'm not sure that she likes me though I am late
so that's debatable.