i'm too tired to turn lists
into fixless things, the lids
like yarn and taut and read.
blue and purple and black for
two, we taunt and i pull as i'm lead.

it settles down, bricks and shut. caught ahead
rings and pulled, cradled hooks, fishing net,
don’t you please give up on me

You uncovered me,

With a shovel, from the sand

All good and well

I tried To swim to you but the

current too strong, pulled me beneath the waves

tangled in the ocean rubble

overcome with rue and pity

that I had not stayed afloat longer

or that my breath had not held out

So that my skin could feel the

warmth of your skin and embrace.

i was washed over with your words

a thirst to whisper to your ear,

almost touching.

hair twisted.

comprehensive and cohesive thought
is perhaps too sophisticated for a mind that
shatters upon arrival - i am not
boundless; my thought cyclic like a
sunrise or hyperbole or
the soft decay of trees upon
frost and grass upon high mountain,
failing crop upon a forever urbanised
temple. winding foundation i've clearly fallen through,
lost within nothing but a clear crisp
memory i think this setting
is lost here but i don't think that
your arms emanate enough heat for me to judge
you've emptied me of difficulty whilst filling me with
the clarity of misjudgement and this
decadent optical illusion.

a tideline is much too fast, i think
to obscure every detail of
i know this isn't a crescendo and
yes i realise it's not always
but there's not enough of a
distance to turn the light out
you're farther than i can reach
but everything settles
a simmering of muscle under skin
unobscured and heavy.

tasteless biology
leaning churches and towers
ill amongst the flowers

your **** posture, you’ve wrapped yourself

a straight kneed hero, back strung

like hot gun glue, hard and you’re ready

to do whatever, you’re far too young