For you

Writing words
as if they could touch you.
As if a sentence
were my arm outstretched,
my words – my fingers –
go through your hair.
A Full stop – a kiss,
a comma – a breath
that we breathed together.
This could not exist
within me
without you.
The twisted silver lining
of the aching heart is this –
after all of this
I still have my words;
you are still my meaning.

Nostos + Algos

A place

I felt at home,
and I desire completely
but can’t return to.

Entomologically

nostalgia creeps
into my memories
and into my dreams,
the places you still exist.

Fragmented and illusory.

Definitions don’t define me,
but confuse me, confine me
to torturous exploration of meaning.

We were not sustainable,
you were entertainable,

not by lute or flute
but sing bard sing.

In a cracked voice
we ended Spring
under the blaring Summer.

My ice-cream melted
into the sea
before I could eat,
as it always does.

City nights, guiding lights, false prophets

I saw god in a stranger,
pouring petrol.
I heard god in mouths
in the many churches
lining the street
where the hookers stand,
angels of the night
illuminated in headlights.
I lost my voice
shouting at the universe
from the car window
at fast-lane speed,
to get closer to light
we ride our breath away
and stick hands
into icy air
to break the numb.
I thought I saw a sign
of insight
but the sight to see
was an adult store neon.