Bleak when I'm gone            from your embrace
Grey is the sense                   without your taste
Mistiness                                instead of blood
And when it bleeds              it's like the sun

Those aimless roads             they end with you
A moment's touch                to fill me through
Drowsy eyes                          and still I gaze
Reach to your chest              perhaps too late

Let me paint my kitchen in bright colours,
Let the morning light bounce off oranges and yellows.
Let me paint each bathroom tile with abandon,
And let each windowsill hold life.
I will build homes for my literature and
The walls will collect memories.

Leave the door open and the floor clean,
Leave the garden wild and the drawers crowded.
Let the wood have character and the rugs have texture.
Take care and let be.

Ten times nightly it crawls beneath,
Five times sprightly it ruptures my peace.
Pale is its breath
When I open my legs
Waiting for it to go back inside.
Sometimes, when it sleeps, I begin to feel
Something close to love.
And slowly it moves, its endless wrath,
Extinguishing all warmth,
Coming back to its fat prey.

It opens its gall black shining eyes.

How dreadful,
The cold silence of waiting
For uncondensed hatred.