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Sometimes I want to sleep until winter,
and find someone to play in the snow with me.

Hold my head under the bathwater,
and see if I'm cleaner on the other side.

Let the lead in my bones rise to my throat,
and coat my tongue.
Sometimes I want to slip on a pair of black spectacles and be blind for a while.
Today's the day my love and I,
sign our lives away.
From now we will always see,
each other every day.

This building that we stand in now,
so tall and grey and proud,
With its windows set high in the wall,
for all the watching crowd.

The man above will cast his gaze,
and witness our devotion.
Oh! Love's never-ending sigh,
what a wond'rous shining notion.

His blue eyes creased when I first asked him,
to be my only one.

Those eyes turned black with total fear,
the night we had to run.

First they blew his brains out,
onto the rutted road.
Then they carried me away,
a dumb and deafened load.

The day they tried me it was warm,
sunlight bounced around the city.
Guilty not for acts of love,
mere mistaken identity.

A Father came to save my soul,
for I am not so old.
But he spoke to me of burning,
When all I felt was cold.

So, the big man will have his say,
and pull upon his rope.
And everything will disappear,
save for the rope around my throat.

But me - I shall shed not a tear,
nor whimper nor cry out.
Because behind this hood I have,
a truth that I don't doubt.

Love for death or death for love,
or any which way 'round,
a breath for love's dead finest,
is held safely in the ground.
I remember the night we tried and tried.
And woke up with a silvery glow because despite
our trying there was too much there for us to deny.

I remember carving ourselves into the city streets.
We were the space between the moon and the sun.

I remember ignoring the warning burns and creating sparks anyway.

I remember the sleepy songs, and how you never used to sleep.

I remember how we laughed and walked and lay and ate hot food and bit and scratched and flew and wore no clothes and ached and healed and loved.

I remember trying to imagine a world with no air.

I remember learning how to be still, and I remember how when I’m in your arms I feel at home.
"Are you a paranoid schizophrenic?"

"No."
"Certainly."
"Who's asking?"
I like short poems.
They say more.
I wanna go.
I wanna go here.
I wanna go there.
I wanna go slowly.
I wanna go fastly.
I wanna go.

I wanna go with her.
I wanna go alone.
I wanna go with them.

I wanna go with a spring in my step.
I wanna go underneath a cloud.
I wanna go where I can taste the wind.
I wanna go tread the kerb.

I wanna go to the edge of the earth.
I wanna go to the end of the garden.
I wanna go where they smile.
I wanna go where they die.

I wanna go and be yours.
I wanna go and be mine,
Own,
Unique.
I wanna go away.
I wanna go home.

I wanna go and remember.
I wanna go to forget.
I wanna go on my feet.
I wanna go on the screen.
I wanna go to be king.
I wanna go for the kids.

I wanna wanna wanna wanna.
I wanna go.
First poem, feedback appreciated. Apologies to anyone who, like me, forgets whether or not 'wanna' is still a word during the course of reading it.

— The End —