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Jul 2015
swam placid through last night, or today, or is it all the same and continual? anyway, i found myself curled up in a lounge, alone, by a great fire. small, hidden beast i, frozen-still stars floating through, wondrous lopsided flesh against the ground; cradling tiny empty warmth, just where i wanted you. & smile. thunder through birdcries through dawn. wanderlust aching me out to the waves, threshing and soft, held at the hand of heavyset horizon. & think about miles. & fake smile. sometimes, our own oceans get rough. i'm so proud of you, though, keeping afloat. got home and muesli and songs and coffee and trees and ah. breathe. set utterances on the seabreeze. sent north n' west.
knots weave fine cycles in my head, like time around treestems. drifts of ocean mist, over inlet ridgeline, roar silent swells over the day. slow procession. slept enough for the both of us, trying to find you, immersed in soft clouds; dulled and fantastical. everything brims on the edge of everything else. a couple sparks away, in a small town somewhere, raining half the time, caught up, tangled in songs & sunsets. smiling gently into the light. i'll call it dawn, sooner or later, but still imagine your radiance, in stead.
bleary eyes and tiresome channels of blood but, small circling sparrow on the horizon, light through leaves, rivulets of smile bleeding up my cheek.
time's strange hands curl round and tie cycles; here, i was but a small chip in the woodwork. some little sharp snag life'd carved out, to grasp nothin' but air. but, somehow, the same air takes on resonance within the hum of my chest, tubelamps ever aflicker, and im sat staring, dead on, into the firm couch-material, trying to calculate the speed of sound from you to i. 'cause i swear i heard the impression of soft lips inch up next to my frozen ears, and in breath let wash warm reprieve, up and over me, and yes i am sad and terrified you too will fall into aches (which is explanatory for my perhaps often with-held-ness) and fold, just as terrified, away. never disallow one self's happiness, though. regardless if the meaning to it seems absent. just learn how yr smile works. and i hope i'm a crease, like sometimes you are the light pouring from my eyes. folding away. sometimes, you are, too, a smile brewing in the corners of my lids.
dreams form light clusters around my weary head. felt really strange today. inexplicable sadness, in the most beautiful things. saw you in people. little parts of you, everywhere, in voices and eyes. enough to fill me to the brim of connectedness. all these effervescent bubbles, so close to shimmering enough to be you, but never, ever you. much as i wish so. would if i had changed time, today or ten years. fabricate this daydream, i now weave slow on settling fingertips. the shock and sting of knowledge. your eyes. sweet smile. and the acres we've still got to pad through, stifling breath floes, changing stories at the tip of the stem. soft touch as dawn breaks. ghost, i know.
Tom McCone
Written by
Tom McCone  Wellington
(Wellington)   
1.1k
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