Don't tell, but -
I missed my flight and...
And thought of you today.
That time when
You were working – a TV job...?
The details fade.

I was in the taxi
On my way
When suddenly the truth sank in –
I was not going to make it.

I almost called you
But I stopped myself -
You’d be at work,
I’d have to leave a message,
You’d call me back...

And the morale of the story
Would be - I am an idiot.
That’s all. An idiot.

I’m sorry and I feel stupid
And I want to call you now.

Now that I have
Something to confide
And no one to confide it in.

We're both writing notes to ourselves
That we hope the other will find -
Trying to poke and **** out our Jenga pieces
But finding both sides entwined.

She woke me up this morning
With a cry.
She'd walked into a wardrobe or something.
I wanted to know why...

She sent me for some Arnica
I don't know where it hides
By the time I got back
She was already back inside
the duvet covers.

I put the tube of gel down
Climbed back into bed
And said nothing.

We are strange lovers.

.......................


What's that?

Oh... Nothing.


The truth is not an option.


Oh god.

Not again.


That silent phone, distracted eyes.

Thinking about what I've said to...


No. The truth is not an option. I wish it was.


This route just feels familiar now.

There's nothing to look forward to.

But, well...


The truth is not an option.


No. You're right.

But...

I don't know, perhaps it is.



The truth is not an option.


Ok, so what?


Nothing.


Just

say

nothing.

As the magic morning coffee beans take hold,
My thoughts turn into windows
That sprout like flowers or weeds
Across my screen until by lunch time
There’s sixteen or seventeen or eighteen
Links and tabs dividing me
Into minute long thoughts
That grab me for a second
Before being blown away
By a swish of fingers
On the trackpad
I can’t
Keep
Track.
Of…
Help.
I…
I need another coffee.

I fell in the sea
and it was made of love
And the love became the taste
Of saltwater on her neck
And she taught me to dive
With my eyes wide open
Looking through the water at the sun
Breaking the surface.

"It's like just like dying," she said.
And I heard "diving"
Because it was like diving
But it was also unlike diving
And so it didn't seem a silly thing to say
Though all the things she said
Like them fishes in a sea of love
Hooked by a line at night
That came out of a boat
And made us shure
That the unsaid things
Were both unsaid
Were silly.

I forgot my shoes.

We made love between the boats
Gently pulling ourselves along the rope
From one wine dark evening
To the sunlit morning below...

And even my lips
Remind me of her
Waking so close
Her eyes could touch mine
Nice dream
Like the lift of sunrise
Between us
And the need of nothing else
But these warm shivers and...

Blistering Barnacles!

I just fell in the sea
And it was made of love.

We all know the sound of a gun
If we haven't heard one,
We've heard one in the movies.

A staplegun
Snapped me back from daydreams
Of Matrix offices and warehouses
Hole-punched a Tarantino image
In my head.

I knew a man once who could read the trees
He'd stand in a field with nothing on
And look at them for hours
(He couldn't talk to flowers)
But he would pour over every branch
Trace every knot and feel their bark
He translated a sycamore for me once
But oaks and beeches were his favourite
He said he just preferred their type.
The elbow bends told him of seasons
The trunk's tilt told the prevailing winds
Their denseness in relation to their neighbours
Told him all manner of gossipy things.
The colours and the hues told of the soil
The moulds and lichens the local fashions
He'd tell you if they'd ever been frightened
By hippies, chainsaws, axes or lightening.
And as I looked on, I realised something
As I read his naked body with no clothes
This man was obviously a stark raving lunatic.