I slip into the languid,
Red body-warming liquid,
Sinking so slowly...
Plummeting backwards
At slow-motion speed...

Through timeless fathoms
I enter a dream of gulls
On silver wings
Flapping overhead,
Drawing out screeches

Endless screeches, mingling
With my tumbling,
And tingling
With my mumbling.
Lying in a purple sea.

Let the secret in the rosebud
Retain its secrecy,
Afore the wind will scatter
And set the petals free.

I looked up into your eyes,
And I saw the heavens
And the earth. And lo,
I had erected a stone for you.

A tombstone at each of
These places, places
We had been together,
Places of sea and heather.

For you just left
On a fine day in May.

The wreath upon your grave;
Abundant flowers in a field
And the brightest stars
Adorning the heavens.

Also the tiny shell
Lying next to the pebble
That you had given to me,
Still in the pocket of the jacket I wore.

Your head upon my *****
I will gently sooth and touch,
chase your fears and darkness
and lull you to a hush.

I would that she better leave,
This temporary insanity,
And take her mad sisters also.

The one who closed her eyes
When she felt your hand upon hers.

The one who’s heart soared
When you kissed her well!

And the crazy one who asked
If staying was for ever!

All the veins,
arteries and trains
from here to there
are way not near
enough route
for you to commute
to come to me,
or for me
to be
close to you.

I have a little thought deep inside
my heart of you.
Not unlike the laughter lifting my eyes
into your humour.
Or unlike the longing it instils in me
to stand with you
on a wild and ecstatic windswept beach,
close in embrace.
A little thought not unlike the ocean
in its magnitude.