is it cruel that sometimes i am
able to breathe normally,
and to get through
the day without
sobbing when
i think about you?

it's only been a little while
but it seems as if
i've forgotten your
petal soft skin,
always fresh with soap,
your hair neatly
clamped to a side
and,
your aching back which
arches stronger than
any bridge, carrying
all the weight of the
life you lived

those weary eyes,
glossy with tears
when we came to
visit from miles away
only to stay for hours,
with you crying
as you hug us
as we depart
like robots

we could've visited more often,
stayed a little longer,
because now all i can do is
pray in the morning when i wake up,
pray when i come back from school,
pray before going to sleep

i wish that your soft skin
stays gleaming,
i wish that your aching back
is no longer curved like a bangle
but instead straight like a ladder
letting you reach the heavens,
your long hair full of colour,
draping earth

and when i'll see the shadow,
i'd think that's you above me,
when i'll see the rain falling,
i'd think it's you crying
as you miss us,
as you look over us,
as you love us from there,
and when spring comes
the petals dancing in the air,
fragrance from france,
the one that's so expensive
won't even compare to your
scent

please let me shake in your
arms as you rub my back
with the strength of generations

please let me hug you
and cry with you as i leave
you behind

just for a little while
let's be together
in this short
life

you have to learn to outgrow things without it breaking you
you'll revisit memories and places like old friends
and the most beautiful thing will be the way you've changed, when other things have stayed the same
certain pieces of your life are only meant for seasons
certain people, too
there's a melancholy beauty in walking away
let them go, with a soft kind of ruthlessness
endings don't have to be tragedies

oh but for a moment of sweet, foolish fun.

smouldering coals glow bright
with gentle touch.

a moment of young, lovely bliss,

a kiss shared -
a real one,
not the farce of hours prior -
from one who is interested.

conversation spills out,
and with it,
admiration, affinity,
some sense of belonging.

silly things, not heavy,
but light.
float above the damp night grass -
soar amongst the clouds gathering above.

push past the smoking remains of
the fire

up the stairs

laughter, smiles, warm skin

nobody's business but ours

brink of a doubling over
down falls forming a sensory slump
soft spoke and mirror smoke
   jailed as rome's one true heroes
we were softly sure oft and were true disposed,
'man alive told me and now I am telling you'
grant this - that we are born and die
forever feeling a drifting time
what a ride
grant this - that we are most recent
and are and are again
the newest information we feel
grant this - that we are loved
and that we are the newest
unto we are ourselves

Silk coated the plush,
your warm hands to greet me.
Soft caresses of my hair,
from a girl with hands softer.

Sunlight drifting in,
soft gold flakes dancing just for us—
warm open windows
to attract the sounds of society,

off-white, draping robes cover
lace-clad thighs—
smoother than thought possible.
All there for me to caress.

Time in molasses...
nowhere to be,
nobody to please,
except, of course, Her.

A blue morning on the 46a to Stillorgan.
I get emotional gliding past the little orange town house. I've passed it every day for two years but this time it feels different.

I can smell your walls and furniture.
Can taste the breakfast you'd surprise me with after a long night of dancing and love making.
Can feel your head on my shoulder as you hold me at the kitchen counter.

You kiss my stomach.

On our last morning, you had driven me to college. Me, eating nutella and banana toast and you watching the roads too carefully. You had just gotten your license. Fionn Regan played softly.