Are there more of you and me, pissed-up
in a few dimensions, wondering if this
thunder strums each sky the same as now?
Whatever, I am not about to lighten up.

Later you will kill for dinner and I’ll watch,
awed that life can boil so fiercely -
pray those crayfish reappear
in a world that you can’t stake or drown.

Let’s forget about the ring you found for me
while you teased another girl
in the cemetery – she’d have liked to die
but you had no urge for idle merriment.

We won’t talk about that “I don’t like it”
moment, how my words set a storm
in a silver ring with sapphire – turning.

————————-

My thanks and apologies to everyone who commented on the drivel that I posted late last night. I had to send it into trash. This is a re-write. Possibly just as bad but maybe not as embarrassingly so lol …

exile made ice-work of my caress

you couldn’t bear to be touched
so i kept the tide low-key,
waned almost out of reach, love
knew you would not drown
my intuition
that you were hollowed ground
scrying crater dust and loss
for the times you killed
yourself and felt better for it

i wish that you had dared to howl

next door’s noise is rolling in while they move out.

door-slamming conversation doesn’t slow the church bells striding from street’s end, blunt-axing through neurotic wailing car alarms.

decisive click-click-clicks of next door’s switches fire at will, kill all but this headache, wondering if it’s early for red wine or just too late to stop

the noise.

on the path, beside the furrow ploughed by motorbikes last night,
a random concrete slab is resting.

i count finite tap-tap-taps of rain.

out of time’s disguise i’m not on the rocks,
no matter that a gull screams
yet another invocation, tears rain apart,
dives at a smoky silhouette

spinning in the distance; i am always just
a simpler thought – drifting
in wild-crazy flowers, colour reaching
for a sky to climb

broken glass tumbled holograms faking
love on our ragged bed

         rain's overhaul of reality
         wept into pale dawn

cloudy thought in skin's delusion
traded hours for leaves

past lives glower on this current wake,
shimmer fades - dying in the dive
while stars turn in slow burn;
    such a gorgeous smile in your dark
    spider thoughts, my love

that red-back in your soul simmers
like the land - waiting for another
storm to be free of grief;
   passion's urge is cruel, stark,
   frightens what survives - love

That comment on my shy undress
was merely observation;
much like the way you study ants,
find them cute, an acceptable diversion
since Olympia’s out – on the lash again.

Still, I felt like shit when you deigned
to view me once – I did not stain
sole’s level or your world, so full of it.

You cage-fight words, make them scream,
wrestle like bare knuckled children
cloned and bartered for a crowd that caws
         "win,lose, give it more of that" 

and when they roll - promiscuous in heat
from your wagered tongue
you are exhausted, heaving and amazed
         in a void that still-lives 

ache - for all your pounding disconnection
words cannot Do but fail - framed
in cruelty your slaves are bound to starkest
         principles - of cause.

Tern circles – airy arrogance – leaves
me spiked on its final shriek
wondering how to dress a sudden vortex
whirling at my brow.

You won’t notice that the sky has fallen
and I’m wearing a bandana.
You’ll retreat as always – flight
is all that we agree on.

Day’s imprinted – bad news coffee
out of taste and time,
I growl with reckless intuition
skirling into cloud.

You prowl the wake of another war-zone
dream, grim with repetition

fist fight
“i’m right i’m right i’m right”

walls – grim reminders of the lost.
Bruises leak, slip from your holding cell

disperse
“i’m right – dead . right”