i dreamt you took me to a gallery
contemporary and bizarre
what i imagine the insides of the capillaries of dali’s brain to be
we didnt speak a word
everything felt sturdy and well crafted
my dress was seamed well and your shoes shined
our legs half-evaporate as we stroll
ever so eager
puzzling looks at unfamiliar shapes
we admire the work
and then we leave
silence; still
mouths shut
locked and sealed and we shake the keys
the hands of the clock dance for a while
my thick moustache grows as we swallow Guinness
and then it happens
ever so eager
admiring looks at familiar shapes
we puzzle the work
and then we come

why do i glide serum through my hair
stare into the mirror in my makeup chair
i need advice and a vice
being a woman does not suffice
a keen yearn to please
must i get down on knees?
swamped in a somber guilt
i lack will, i wilt

O! how life could be so kind
to lie awake with You
threshold open, mellow birdsong whilst the trees unwind
reflection shows a colour of bristol blue
like glassware or a spectical- like yourself
formed, sculpt, handcrafted with purpose
place thou on a mantlepiece or centrepiece shelf

i had a dream
i was rich and known
a nightmare at first it seems
everybody knew who i was and who id been
tabloids of my face and all my disgrace
they see me how i see myself, but worse?
with my earnings in this dream i built a wall
a palace never ending to the sky
and i sat there away from it all
me and john
and we rot away in this new place we built
its home

familiarity takes its grip in december again
we can meet again im sure of it
im walking and running whilst chained to a thin mattress
ive been here before with a different shade of glass
the same lack of blood and a new longing for you
i wish for difference and you wish for life
some things never change

So soft and gentle
You’re ******
Wrapped in cottons and covered in hair
You mildly look to me
Crimson, Scarlet, Ruby,
I pick my nose of crystals
And absorb to one

bottled water replicates you as i lie in a empty double
i tell myself i dont need to feel the touch of those blistered fingers
who have they touched
you got your escape
and ill always get mine