Your memory is etched into my mind

as permanently as though it were stone,
and someone took out a chisel
and carved out your name

I cannot forget you,

after six glasses of gin, you blur
into something more beautiful, in character  

but it is still
your face
your hands
your heart

that have woven me
in the fabric of time and space

so that I am a planet

forever in debt to your sun

I look in the mirror
each morning
and see a stranger
reflected back at me

I take my fingers
and peel back the first layer
of glass, and reveal nothing

I accept that I have to invite this stranger
into my life, like an old friend
offer her tea, make her comfortable
love her enough in the hopes that one day
we may connect

and I shall no longer see her face
but my own, reflected, smiling

Fallen -
like Lucifer
we find ourselves a new home

scolding -
we toast marshmallows in the the flames
let them lick our feet

burn our hair
until the smell makes us
faint

for you,
and only you

I take tea in the fires of Hell

this heart of porcelain

vitrified by your gentle hands

I am delicate, you said

like an unplucked flower

I am just waiting to be

smashed, picked, broken

and you would stand in the smithereens

and cry

over a ruined masterpiece

but shed no tears

over the girl who sacrificed her heart

for your art

Your fist opens
like a spray carnation

I pick at its pink petals
teasing it to take my fingers
and weave them between yours

for us to hold hands
as the sun beams down on us

burning the flowers to dirt
offering them back to the Earth

There’s no crueller word
than goodbye

Until it’s accompanied
by the whys

I am not whole, you see,
for there is a hole that runs
right through the centre of me

a void of emotion
where fear, shame and despair

disappear from view

(from me)

rainy days can make my mind murmur, though
with a flicker of recognition

For even the sky cries, dear...

Even the sky