Far off are you, praying for your abandoned youth
A dream dripping of honey and rosy cheeked naivety
Tendrils of chestnut and bouncing curls would cradle a face of polished glass

You would spin in those bell like circles, giggling
Giggles which were hymns
And then you turned and turned into that place which cracked that glass face

There's an abundance of wild, suspended poems hanging above our heads but there's hardly enough words to describe them down to earth.

What you've done to me is like autumn to the leaves
You've lulled me down onto the ground
And cast me into slumber
There I'll lie
All dull and dry
What once was green is umber

The shape of you is like a bottomless purgatory
like a living thing but never at all
Desperately I've clawed at those spaces
trying to carve you out of them

Just your shape
Your perplexing, invisible and selfish shape

My breath fogs the glass of the restaurant window
All humidity and rain through which there is still no shape
that could be salvaged as yours
I'm covered in soil in those spaces
I'm buried in the shape of you

These torments of life and death meet at those great and mawing jaws of beasts and angels
You, the embodiment of innocence, were swallowed hole
Sinking inch by inch into the cruel sacrifices of God and consumption.

I saw you with your eyes wide open as you finally reached the edge of the precipice of that pink and hungry throat
Being crushed at your soft places to fit into that great and lifeless void that forced itself upon you, drawing you inside

I saw you as your face was last seen to the world
Panicked, squawking
And then submissive to that insurmountable grip, that great disappearing

You were swallowed hole
And there he sat upon a sunny rock, digesting and wholly alive

Your fingers, which used to trance the slopes of my skin, only touch air and exertion
Your eyes, which used to remind me of Moroccan waters, have been smothered out by their own memory
So blatantly intangible, it's as if they never were blue
Ash has settled in the spaces we would lie
Our heartbeats replaced with elements of loneliness and lust
So I've been neither here nor there
Floating, suspended- like a star hung out to dry
Lost for a heart and yellowing out on the wind

Draped over your braided thoughts
there lies lace and little beauties
It is almost a sort of glaring cruelty
that you clasp it, white knuckled and selfish
wholly absent from this hollow place

Underneath rests sweet innocence, a harbinger of angels,
souls and quiet romanticism
Eyes closed to that flickering flame which gasps, dying so steadily at your suspended little toes
You are still, frozen
other than those fluttering eyelashes and hungry eyes that look up at those beautiful and wicked angels which lilt only for you