Tacky,
Pressed,
Stressed down.
Clinging on,
Grain to grain,
Flat.
On a thin skin,
A shellish, crumbly wrap.

The rope is long,
I tie a knot.
I wrap it round,
I'm getting fraught.
My feet unstable,
A dizzy head.
Don’t like it here,
I pull a thread.
A lonesome strand,
Is now all tangled.
I pull the rest,
The rope gets frazzled.
I look around,
No one is near.
I get off,
I leave the pier.
A quick glance back,
The waters foam.
The boat is drifting,
I'm going home.

Around the wall,
Around the well,
Around the dangling rope.
I'm pacing,
Try tracing,
My misplacing hope.

I'm not a pair,
I'm odd.
The ark has sailed
Without me on board.

A line hanging,
High.
Between before and later,
And I am now,
Suspended,
In between.
A pendulum pulsating in the wind.
Between before and later,
Paused,
Hoping for a cause.

I see them come,
I watch them go,
Not stopping here,
Not looking,
Not thinking,
For a moment,
To stay.
So still,
I'm talking to myself.
One more day,
One more day,
One more day.

Ripples of scentless odour,
Diffused with every beat of my heart.
Through my skin.
Pulsing out in faint circled puffs.
A fog enveloping me,
Stretching thin, long fingers,
Tapping on the shoulders,
And stealing up the noses,
Of all those,
I might want.