the sun does no more
In your presence.
it is otherwise useless.
the heat of your lips
the warmth of your body
the rays from your eyes
that hold me tight.
Just
set fire to my skin.

let me burn in your sight.

As I'm sure,
you can see
-ripped jeans, messy hair and a cup of coffee-
I may not of had the best
nights sleep.
But somewhere
in those spotty moments we called clarity
-or was it sobriety-
I found the right words,
to let out.

I remember bits of it,
Vowels that spun violent nights.
Consonants that concocted creative crimes.
There was even some petty punctuation too!
It was, I think
"I Love You?"
-"i loved you"-

floor to ceiling windows
stacked two upon two
capillaries bursting with office work.

neon signs and patina streaked doors
opening up valves at lunch times
Pret A Manger bloodletting.

final call at The Angel
heralding the end of the work week
teams of cleaners flush the system
to restart for the following Monday.

deliberation deliberate
how different to consider;
and to do.
tell and wait
show and stall.
keep time in back pockets.
fish for change
and make a
pittance.
surely after words,
came reactions,
and after broken promises
came sanctions.

surely after it stopped burning
things began to grow.
stories of salt,
of salting.
an act to crystallise
and make barren,
make bare.

starting
ceasing.
how similar to filling up,
and filing down,
a feeling.

playing piano
along your arms
is somehow my
sweetest tune

let me rest
at your foundations.
the bedrock and granite streaking
earth.
let me trace with my fingers your
basis.
to feel safe and free
of your too cold hands.

Rewind.
Back. Again. One more time.
To a kind,
another, close but distant
Memory. A flame. You, me?
Us.
I remember what it was called.
Trust.

I saw you standing there.
Looking at the street as if it was a stained glass tapestry telling you how much your life would take
Then.
You saw me, but you didn't "see" me.
It was lazy
lacklustre
And should of screamed a thousand warnings
But I..I'm oblivious aren't I?
I notice the curve of your back, crumpled silk I reach to smooth out and bring you back AND

With a flinch that runs through you

I tie my tongue around my teeth.
Somehow I manage to say
"How was your day?"

"Okay" you'd say. Looking through me you'd say.
"Okay"

while scurrying in the underground
he walked like the caves connecting
the city was his birthright
like the current in the earth grounded him
the roaring trains
his adoring subjects

what a moment
brushing past a subterranean prince
glancing at granite jaw
his knowing smile
hands that could have carved a space
out of me.

i turned away as
to see the darkness of the tunnels
peering back at you on the platform
taunting you to jump
was not a commitment i could make.

To hear your sob story.
Poor you? How about poor me?
All this venting, letting my patience out
soon warm wise words'll turn cold.
So don't get pissy when i start to shout
another thousand times your tale'll be told.

let each leaf in the forest
be a love story that anybody can walk through when
they feel alone.

let each late night car ride
carry sonnets, starlit whispers and murmurs
in case it feels a little too much.

let each poem in this logbook
be able to reach into your longing heart and empty hands
for whenever you thought you weren't loved.

i am always one poem away from saying "i love you."

I have spent an age
Longing.

                                   I have spent an eon
                                               Loving

                                                                                I have spent an eternity
                                                                                                           Lusting
whereas you spent a second.
Making it all worthwhile.

As this slow drip, timeless trip
wavers out its incessant lifespan
leaves me, wishing our relationship.
                                              To never cease to be.

it’s -2 degrees.
the sun can’t warm the chill.
overhead, the clouds
blotch daydreams paler.
all im thinking is
it’s been 2 years.
sighing on the glass makes
condensation collect.
like a river,
hold my mouth to the runoff.
i can’t run from grief in the cold sunshine.
but i’ll never let a loss leave me thirsty
for more.

"i just thought the sky looked better behind you."

I thought you'd wait.
Cause today till midnight,
I'll lay awake.
Dreaming up
downtrodden fantasies.
Causing the most baleful
to blush.

I thought you'd wait.
because last night
the fights that'd ring out
our happiness- were lost.
Our laughs and tears
-well my tears- were silent.
No more jeers,
jests and clown like style.

          Hell I'm gonna miss you for awhile.

disconnect me- rip out these wires needlessly transmitting data points of zero's and one's, linking up in a systematic corruption of who i am and who i want, mechanical neurons lighting fires in my heart and brain, pulsing until they burn out into ashes and dust just another singed electronic unfeeling part of me that will only result in catastrophic system failure.
and i can't switch off.
its the only warmth i know will stay.
its the only warmth i ever get around me.

like-a-night-terror
slip pin g  out of vie w
                                  the words elude.
  so keep there
the                 eyes
     unfocused
at paper or/// screen till the sentence---- rushes into sight.    
              break it.
                        ^^                  butcher it.
     keep it.<<      >>  analyse it.
  toss it .                                         kiss it.

where w a  s it?                  was it ee ee e even here?

a tremor in the night
awoken without the memory
(all poets say is a million different "I can't love you any other way.")
of a line i wanted to write.

i am the worlds worst guest.
i will help you cook a meal
set the table
help place the plates
will eat everything in front of me
wash up and dry alongside you
even if you tell me not too
i am the worlds worst guest.

i will stay in your room
help clean the clutter
make it neat and tidy
as long as you are beside me
i can sit on the bed chair or floor
and i will never tire or bore
i am the worlds worst guest.

i have no sense of time
i can stay hours or days
until you've had enough
there's always another time
there's always other stuff
i need to be told to go
otherwise i will never know

That i am the worlds worst guest.

curated
left myself hanging on the gallery of promises.
eyes and arms outstretched,
ache and need
follow you around the room.
do a double take,
take my few remaining moments
while you ponder
if you could have done something similar, leaving loss under floodlights
to tell a feeling, to rot under public protection.

Polaroid mimicry
A grin, spreading ear to ear.
Cheshire cat wannabe.
stay like that for a little while.
cause your rare, rare smile
needs more than one photo.

You leapt. Landed, laughed.
While I.
I lied- lagged then limped.
Its fair but not fair.
Then I remembered
Love doesn't care.

i have tied
my heart to the tree
to play on its strings.
the notes
hollow out the space
like cavities.
i play on my heart
tied to the tree
i am always a part
of whatever you left me.

On my finger
a semi-precious stone lies.
I was promised its energies'd linger
with a colour to match summer skies.

Lapis Lazuli, blue blue blue
Please I beg-

Never lose your hue.

Lilies
And
Lies
Offset
Tulips
And
Truths.            An Unrequited Bouquet.

At what point does a
Need to remember
incense a
Need to forget?

Perhaps in fact an acceptance
of
Not so common sense.

couldn’t keep
my finger off the photo
could never keep things in.
mourning is just having,
a lack of
trigger discipline.

They say;
"The flame burns brightest in darkness."
but then, I would argue;
"The flame burns brightest amongst the many."
As no fire nor flame
can ever truly be distinguished

Come and follow.
down, down this hollow.
Tree, tea and other such triviali-
ties?
Let us land in this lettuce land,
swapping vegetable stories
kissing better our sore knees.
Maybe if we try hard enough
we'll find love.

A spark, a candle lit- as
we share our candlelit dinner; whats on the menu?
Deceit pies, cream lies.
and other some such tasties.

We're too hasty.
Just me, talking to just me
or was it Justine?

We'll never know- a beautiful mess.
I guess.