Dearest?
I peeled back my eyelids, and
belted out the sound that beasts make when giving birth to their young: a hollow, ungodly groan reminiscent of the time you set this place on fire and remembered that I was inside.
Now we are to break bread and speak. I say the sweetest things when there is someone to hear. Cover your ears, that would be best

I see you in the sky
Hammering your one glass eye
And trading stories with the wind
We fit in wherever
Feelings are placed timidly
Back in their cupboards
Libraries of humbleness
Mumbling in their dreams
We’ve barely remembered
That the embers are still burning
Hymns of confession
Each have a story to tell
So we teach it to the children
By the rivers of yesterday
We trust our bodies to fight disease
And drink from streams of light
To see the sky can be insightful
When longing to stay
Becomes more practical
Then running away again each spring
It means belonging to the daylight
Though before you've arrived it seems
That you’ve already learned
How to stay awake
Until it speaks to you in your dreams
And according to her
We are unconsciously treading
On the seams of everything

I thought we knew
each other by our shadows.
Stratosphere laughs.

Inappropriate,
when you touch the moon
in torrential rain.

You pay a price
to listen to Beethoven.
You become blind.

You and I, we no longer
ask for space
We rap our knuckles
against the walls
and bite at each other
Stick pins in the chairs
And leave the milk out to spoil
We drive a hard bargain,
And cackle like a crazed one come to end it all

These days I can't quite do justice
to the emotions that made me
send you away
I asked a lovebird,
'What is it like to be truly alone?'
but it huddled nearer to its mate
and pretended not to hear
And so I latched the cage
shut and threw them both into the sea
They went down thrashing,
didn't sink till a few moments
Later, when the sun had finally gone down on me
Still I held your face in my thoughts and tried to forget that lovebird song

He is up in the sky throwing popcorn from his seat
Tracing mountains and making out their shapes the way we do with clouds
He's making faces and making sounds, and painting scary colours in the sky, beautiful colours in the sky
He's stomping his feet and clapping his hands, so loudly, very loudly
He's making faces and blowing raspberries so that it rains
He loves the rain
He is up there, up in the sky
having a ******* hoot