If I were a better person,
I'd tell you that I've liked you
The way you consume food
not caring what others would think so
Your smile that all along
has been my medicine
I liked the way you scold me
and call me stupid things
I was happy with the very idea
that you became a friend.

But I am me,
not the person I'm expected to be
The complications gave in,
all the best I've had within
I was a candle with no candlewick,
nowhere to lit a fire in
I cannot tell you that I have liked you,
in the next life, I promise to.

your love is like a candle
untroubled to handle
crafted with senses
your candlewick heaves
and chases untimely
blue and smooth
it trails divinely
melts under my touch
and dresses down
a molten savor
weak and steady
it lugs me flavor
uncharge the flame
in the cold throughout
that shapes me with form
then burns me out
scorching and
heavy; a vibrant tone
never here to stay
but it's where i go
when i'm alone

you're not half bad
at your candlewick blossom snuffing -

got your braggart game up loud
in your repetitive silence
beaming at the doting strange phoenixes
darting in between your
bending fingers,

snatching up my flames
in their return to their
static progress on
life skills that are lingering
far too long
in the forging stage.

baby, baby
please -

tell me those aren't
your voices
slithering up the tall
columns of echoes,
wailing out
overzealous,
too pompous
orations.

nevermind -

my mind's pretending
to sleep somewhere marvellous
in this mind-field
of
the littlest
pink *******,

trying to act like
i don't suddenly feel
as if
the tomorrow
up next
will be bringing
a different star.

so i just sit here -

pointing my toes at occurrences
that i really wish had've gone down
a whole lot more
differently,

praying that
by some miracle,
tossing a bit of dust
from my careful bag

(paired with the experimental
levitational practices
i keep doing in my free time)

will somehow
make room
for all these
eggshells you won't stop
throwing onto the floor.

too many have found me
playing patty-cake
under that possessed streetlamp
down Hardy,
the one that always seems to flicker
when i walk by -

snatching back its potency
just long enough
to highlight the
unsolicited red apple ritual
happening in my
cheekbones.

i've got a game to catch.

not trying to be the dawdling girl,
throwing all of her hopes
into the air,
willing the destined one
to be something that will
cradle us both.

you gotta be on this
wick snuffing trip
searching for something a little more than
a ****-tossing buddy.

better get a pack of matches
and try to beat me to it,
'cause i'm putting up my fire-red can

and the light's gonna follow me out.

Freedom is sweet,
like the rain.*
My darkness has not subsided,
But has rather been enlightened-
A candlewick flickering…
Brought unto the sun.
An aura evading waves of renewal
Glimmering violet and indigo,
Happiness in vertigo.
An awakening of willingness
To begin the great vagabondage
That most refer to as the future.
More so; the unknown.
And it is okay to not know-
The unseen is mesmerizing.

You saw Judy on the south wing
of the old folks nursing home
near to Mr Atkinson’s room
carrying towels in her arms

I need to speak to you
you said
what about?
she asked

you playfully bundled her
into Bob Atkinson’s room
(he was either
in the lounge

or out down town
hobbling along
for small items of shopping
or at the second-hand

book shop looking
for boy’s annuals
of yesteryear
which he read

from cover to cover
before cutting out
the pictures
and sticking them

in albums)
what are you doing?
she said
what if Bob comes in?

he won’t
he’s out
you said
but what if he does?

she whispered
well unless I was rogering you
to kingdom come
I don’t think he’d mind

you said
pressing her 5’5’’ body
against the door
and looking into her

grey blue eyes
she gazed
into your eyes
and said

what do you need
to talk to me about?
I think I’m in love with you
you said

she sighed
that’s the umpteen time
you’ve told me that
she said  

she dropped the towels
on Bob’s bed
and put her arms
around your waist

and drew you closer
you moved your left hand
around her back
and your right hand

on her buttocks
and said
that’s because it’s
umpteen times worse

or better depending
how you look at it
she kissed you on the lips
and you sensed

her tongue touch yours
her eyes closed
and you closed yours
the room becoming

a far away place
her perfume blending
into the air about you
the ticktock of Bob’s

old clock on the bedside table
like some metronome
setting the pace
as if it was all part

of some song or some
deep aspect
of a Bruckner symphony
she pushed you away

and said
it’s nearly break time
and people will wonder
why we’re not there

and put one
and one together
ok
you said

removing your hand
from her ****
the warmth still there
her eyes still captured

in your inner self
thank you
for the Chagall postcard
I’ve put it on

my bedside table
along with that photo
you gave me of you
got to go

she said
and opened the door
and walked off
down the passage

you looked around
Bob’s room
at the ticking clock
and the blue

candlewick cover
and the picture
of some boy
cut out of some

old annual
chasing a dog
over a field
and Judy’s lips

and tongue
seemed still
to be there
in your mouth

and her hand enfolding
your waist and back
and Peter in the pants
going all slack.

Mr Cutler had passed away
the room was cleared and ready
for the next resident
clean sheets

pillowcase
fresh blankets
the curtains taken down
and washed and dried

and put up again
but that didn't stop Sophia
penning you in
standing with her back

to the door
blocking your escape
he is dead now?
this Mr Cutler?

yes died the other day
you said
nice bed
she said

you looked at
the candlewick bed spread
blue and smooth
yes guess so

you replied
you gazed at her
with her blonde hair
tied in a pony tail

her ice blue eyes
focused on you
her Polish English words
harsh yet also soft

you could **** me there
she breathed
rather than said
too risky

you said
more exciting
she uttered
her Polish tongue

brutalizing
the English
who will see?
the old man dead

who else
will come in here?
some old boy might
come in by mistake

you said
an audience
will add to the fun
she breathed out

the words
you could smell
their sensuality
no I can't

I have baths to do
you uttered
looking at the door
behind her back

they can wait
she said
or you could
bath me first

she said smiling
I've got to go
you said
someone might need me

I need you
she uttered
here on the bed
I can't

you said
if you try to leave
the room I will scream
she said

I will say you try
to touch me up
as you lot say
she put one hand on a hip

and the other
against the door
they wouldn't believe you
you said

let's try
if I scream loud enough
and cry they will
she said

she mimed opening
her mouth and screaming
ok
you said

no need to scream
she smiled
good boy
I like you

she said
moving away
from the door
and unbuttoning

her blue overall coat
revealing her tight
short dress
her ******* pressing out

the top
she dropped her overall
on a chair by the window
and drew the curtains

that's better no?
it made the room darker
the shadowy light
made the moment surreal

come on
she said
mustn't waste time
and she began to undress

and you stood there
open mouthed
and doomed
when someone

called your name
down the passageway
Mr Elks needs you
where are you?

oh ****
Sophia said
dressing quickly
and standing

by the sink
out of sight
of the door way
sorry

you said
maybe another time
and you opened the door
and closed it behind you

as Matron arrived
ah there you are
Mr Elks has been
calling for you

I think he needs to go
to the bathroom
o right
you said

just been making sure
the place is ready
nodding back
at late Mr Cutler's room

ok
she nodded
and gave the door
a quick look

and then went on ahead
leaving Sophia dressing
and forsaken
no ****

for her today
and followed Matron
with no
more to say.