i.
There is a small bruise
spreading across your forehead
like wine across the body of a saint.
Your forehead is resting on my sheets,
cotton and white like sinners. Our bellies
are sweaty and naked. My belly has been bloated,
spread out and looking like a high peak, for over
a week, and I’ve never not wanted you here,
in my bed, on top of my bed, more than now:
our shirts are both blue, our shirts are both
lying on my floor. I am shivering, trembling
like moths in a burning house.

ii.
In a dream we are walking through
a train station that looks like an
alleyway and you are letting go of my hand
slowly and I am feeling like a church
made of grass and my limbs are feeling
like graves and across the train station
that looks like an alleyway there is a girl
in long clothes beckoning to you and you
come and I am sprung up drenched
in pools of my own sweat as though it were
July all over again.

Life, I know you don't believe me
But you are just a lie
Giving people so much hope
Just to take it when we die

So love is really nothing
Time is the only truth
We lose each minute as it passes
Just like we lose our youth

With the kiss of life
and the sting of death
We laugh and cry
Till our final breath

No ease from worries
Until we've died
Life was my lover
But death, my bride

If I had a grain of sand
for every tear drop
you made me shed
for every time you
yelled because of your unhappiness
I would have enough grains of sand
to fill an entire beach
no wonder I hate sand

Tiny gap

inbetween my teeth;

Two lovers

waiting to meet.

The words I can’t say to you are
climbing up my throat
I keep forgetting to breathe
I miss your hands.