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I get this feeling
dew drops in window panes its 5 am
,the cold is stinging me and my back feels a bit sore from the different weather
life stings outside
I lay motionless, half asleep I look at my furniture and my ceiling
and I get this feeling

I looked at all my old things
remembered holding them as a child
and my stomach caves in
moisture slides down my chin
as I overlap the different colors on the wall with a half grin

I go somewhere in my head where I have never been
sitting on top of the wall of berlin
tearing to get to that thing that is so much deeper than under my skin
I open my eyes slowly to get the perfect glance,
whisper sin

Im a deluded dreamer trapped in the core of someone elses refuge
its not mine

it was never mine

hollow filled with courses from my bloodline
I leaned back as I adorned the crevice in your jawline
defined and explicit irrational and sensitive
from that I resign
water moving down like wine into our skyline,
Im overturned into your pshyco love mass incorporated to burn bridges
and start a upheavel of immense love and rememberence
of all your most beautiful things
hidden in my cabin in the naked blue forest I have dripped down
with my hands
morphed into something bloodcurdling on a whirlwind
with gracious hormones of anarachy built under all your
comely bones
 Oct 2010 Flower Scent
Bathsheba
Even in death his eyes sparkle iridescently.

I want to preserve his beautiful eyes.

I need to preserve his omniscient eyes.

Can you do that?

Who would I ask such a thing?

Would they think me mad?

Insane?

Who then?

The Doctor?

The Undertaker?

The Police?

I really don’t know?

They often say that the eyes are the window to the soul.

Well … you see … if they take his eyes, then how will he, be able to see into my soul.

My soul.

How?

He will be lonely.

So lonely.

I cannot let him be lonely.

Can I?

It’s so very cold in here.

I’ll just pop the fire on for a wee while.

Warm us both up.

Well be like toast, all cosy, all snug.

“Two peas in pod” that’s what he used to say.

He always made me smile.

Always.

And now …what?

He never bought me flowers.

Never.

Not once in 45 years.

Said he didn’t need to prove his love with gifts.

I loved him even more for that.

I was special.

I was his girl.

Tell you what …

I’ll put the kettle on; a nice hot brew warms even the coldest of hearts.

Tetley.

His favourite.

“Would you like some cheese on toast, dear?”

“No, well ok, maybe a bit later then”  

I must remember to put the bins out tonight.

I must remember to put the bins out tonight.

And cancel the milk.

Cancel the milk.

Must have everything in its rightful place.

Before I make the call.

The call …

**God give me strength.
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

— The End —