three hours drunk
red eyed and haunted by a done deal.

hope's fall,
face-bound, salt-strong and pressed
in life's howling gale,
the strong man
and that whiskey glare.

she is
blood
in me,
but sees no map of mine,
no lines and no rail
to the life that she lives here.

our place, in me, unchanged:
by years,
by time,
by this strange roaring sea
that bears a shipwreck'd span.

sleep, love,

sleep.

...never spoken...
...and never heard.

in that bitter black,
rolling and fumbling
with hopes' bloodied fingers
tugging at strings of dead love
in daylight's gutless glare,
eyes looking inward,
lightless and ******.

what did you think, girl?
that the curve of your back
would blind me to that
slack in your jaw?
that your mouth-hanging oh-so-clever
would leave me dumb with desire?

well, good for you, ******.

here i am, near two years down
and **** your ****** eyes and

yes

i still choose you,
poor brainless dumb-**** girl,
you and your legs,

and that

long

sweet

soft

sweep

of your dark neck,

darlin.

it's late
but i'll drink to you darlin
cos it falls me to sleep
with you in my arms

we think the world will take our shape
and sense our dream
and make it,

rearrange our hearts
around our fear.

but street corners glare
and neon spits
at what we could have been,

stupid girl

you and ******* i.

**** you.

once upon a time.

wide-eyed
forgotten islands of self
reef-starved
rose again from oceans blue
and deep

songs flame in farewell
and god
these skies.

i have seen a sun rise within me
that i'd thought long dead
still
and mute

and whilst beautiful tragedy,
thick with mockery
sinks this sun slow to sea's end,
distant wonders
gold and glowing and
gone
reign yet.

night's charcoal blue
and shores ember strokes
may keep me a while
but sleep is a seaborn breeze
stealing in from hope's
now-dark
and stolen horizon.

there is no end
to this life.

steeped in gin
and with seaward sight
i find this tide
pulling
dragging
my faltering feet
back to the sea
my deep rich and ragged love.

i fall
face to the salt wind

and drown.

this love of mine,
forged in dark days
and silent nights,
salt-rusted and bent
with night's cold.

let me be
love.

let me be.