Like tarmac, thin layer of carbon on my tongue,
Lick it off and feel my cheeks crumble like sand.
Shiny shower gel bottles and a shrivelled bar of green hand soap.
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A dark blot on a molten giant begins this tale,
A story of struggle, conflict, and uprise I shall unveil,
These incandescent giants have bodies and workings which are beautifully unique,
Comprehending them in full is a truth we ought all to seek.
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You,
Cleaved my ribs apart,
like a clam shell,
and let my organs,
spill into soft sea foam.
Starry freckles blaze upon her cheeks
And dance like the hearth’s straying sparks,
They pulse like dawn in winter weeks
Over the mist-dewed hymns of larks.
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Stood alone at the dance floor’s edge.
Exposed skin glinting wicked silver,
jewellery worn like protective armour,
bare feet firmly planted on checked tiles,
donning a defensive stance.
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The oranges in the bowl have moulded over,
fending off the cold from the cracked window.
Flies kiss them gently, as they age and carve out
weathered wrinkles forming on their backs.
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Entwined with each other
Lying in the silence of the night,
Your Vernier caliper
My coffee mug,
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I’ve noticed I only get nostalgic when I’m lonely.
Even with the life I’ve left behind me, there’s something
that I’m missing, like the trinkets that spilled out of the
overpacked trunk of the car in front of us on the way to Ohio;
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don’t you think?
what more could you ask for?
maybe a tin man or a cowardly lion
maybe anything apart from what I am
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