Lips became rock face wounds,
chapped and sore and high and heavenly
and I’d still kiss them breathlessly.

And though you walk among
the fields and fences of
my heady acre,
I’ll run the risk of failure with
all my devotion
and hand-woven, written emotion.

*It was last year when the snowmelt came, that your tarpaulin skin grew tighter around your peg pin bones.
And it was then that your coat zipper split and broke; let me take you home.

Time called,
it wants its watch back.

So too did love,
it wants its fake relationship back.

Literature left a message for you,
the book you stole should be returned.

Oh! You’ve just missed music,
it said that album you murdered is pressing charges.

Time called again,
just to make sure you got the message.

Check the machine,
there’s one from Platform Eight.
Bonfire night 2011 just hung-up,
it wants you to know never to return.

An email just came through,
from that film we knew every line too.

What was that,
you use people?

Oh! Politeness dropped by,
he said he’d like to slam every door he ever opened for you
back into your face.

Wait a second,
I’ll put him through-
it’s time, he wants to speak to you.

I went from rain to clouds,
then clouds to mist.
I was gone for a while;
please tell me what I missed.

I went from mist to leaves,
then leaves to sun.
I am here now;
please tell me where I'm from.