palm to palm
we sit, ghosts of
former lovers
hanging like last weeks
flowers between us

dead and disintegrating

I imagine it as
the sea, rough and
reckless, the salt
in the air turning
to sugar as I
sip it

slowly

Through eternal sleep he creeps,
On your heart his mark he leaves;
Seeping dark into your veins
His gentle call will permeate your grave.

From his sweet whisper
Your eyes, they will flutter
And with one sweet touch
Darling, you wont be sleeping much either.

So, dear children
Listen to me now,
For the man dressed in black
Is indeed on the prowl.

You cant hide
And you cant run;
Not from The Necromancer,
Not when he's done.

I never wanted to read
the letters you left
me

black ink bleeding
across the page
like the letters on
tattoo'ed skin

that touched water too soon

I imagine the pen-
nib scratching, stinging
like a thousand, angry
bees

you're smoking cigarettes
they don't make anymore
and your yellowed fingers
remind me of caterpillars
that never made it
into butterflies

swollen with new life
and coloured ugly from
the effort of trying
to transform into
it

and failing

"then i'll tell him where to buy a cheap cell phone  and when
so that it can't be traced to our  beautiful weather today

perfect for the beach  don't ask where this C-4 is from
we have plenty  azalias are in bloom

this is all the electrical wire you will need
and in here that's for the fuse  my wife will be here
to trim the roses this afternoon  she shouldn't need

to come in the house  some batteries  ask if you
need more  electrical tape  a thyristor if you want
should be enough for the circuit  help yourself
to whatever's in the kitchen  i'll be back in two days"

I feel the comfortable writhing
deep in my ***** again
I'm not sorry

This is your fault
You touched me first

Somewhere in the back of my mind
You're feeling me out

Little Miss,
Telepathic
Trespassers
will be prosecuted.

...I'll put my hands
around your neck
so softly

And choke out
the words caught
in your throat

To the tip of my tongue
     all the right things flow

To the flesh of your lips
     and all in between

resonating your body
     with stories

stranger
than
fiction

little deaths end
where they begin

can
you
feel
friction
feeling
you
up?

Just how you like
To be
shaken
and
stirred

tossed
and
over-turned

This is me unleashing
some twisted fantasy
to my little therapist
enabling me

To self-medicate with star-stuff
To "Show me what you're made of"
To "Baby, bend over and take it."

Show me the fourth wall
Let's break it.

global wealth--
young slave's crusted mouth
no longer begs aloud

When two words meet
there is a crack
running like spilt red
wine from one end of
my room to the
other

there are voices
living in it
young girls that
scream and laugh
as they fly through
the air on swings

old men that creek
when they move
and breath heavily
as if the weight
of their decades
is a physical onus

before my train leaves
I stand in the middle
of the room and spread
my arms as if they
are wings

my fingers don't touch
the plaster, which is strange,
after spending so many nights
convinced that the
parameters are closing
in on my dreams

I was brought up
to believe in last
looks and I have
grown up to believe in
railway stations and
airports

looking back it seems
cruel to be told that
your address isn't fixed
that there is no point
in learning to live with
the cracks

I leave a pink post it
over the crack
'There's no place
like home' and as
I leave to front door
unlocked, I wonder how
full the carriage will be

and if the stranger
next to me will carry
a portmanteau