delicate swirls
                              abstract motif
                                                             dainty spirals



I.
I see you as a wide sheet of fabric
Beautiful, paisley pattern
Highlighting your *odd qualities
That I love, more than you could get.

How you shimmer and shine
So well.



II.
Yet, I knew not that there exists -
Very quietly bold and calmly geometric;
Another sheet beneath this visible one
A layer concealed, that only my oblivion feels.

How you shiver and hide
So well.



III.
So, as I learn and delve and discover
Burrowing passages and intense pathways
A myriad of tunnels within tunnels
Where is the real you?


How alone; thought I knew you
So well.



IV.
Am I thus lost?
Blinded so by the light in your patterns....

[said in one breath:
so, I try to brush ever lightly over artefacts of your stained existence,
ensuring I leave no trace of me...
there I go making a new layer (for me)
only to see...another layer....and yet
another....]

layer upon
         layer upon
                  layer upon
                           layer upon....
layerrrr.



V.
Into the icy face of wind, words are flung
Only, they come back...messier!

Disaster.....blast the blundering heart in dusty chokes
Love thrives not in intemperate climes.


At which point did you let your voice die?
Perhaps you hide in fear, of suffering alone....

So long.



VI.
There stands a figure in the circle of light....lonesome
We hover near the highly-charged cosmos of chance
Daring the winds to take us, off guard
To glide away on impossible parades....




S T, 28 April 2013

She told me her story.
How it is to miss another soul
so thoroughly,

that their name

behind your teeth

gorges on

your waking dreams.

Look at this, I made for you,
with lungs and fingertips

I've painted the whole of me,
but you've always seen less.

I must have been afraid.
See how my knuckles trembled
to create something so large,
a human soul could fill it?

Don't look at it,
I'm bare.
See my face
in every stroke?

I'd rather turn from you
and quit this sick indulgence
but you must have always known
you'd claim this ruptured soul.

So I have given this nothing reason,

as I gave your darkness color,

and I have given this paint a purpose,

as I gave myself to you.

Your trail of ash
bright as a scar

lead me astray
in skies of tar

it was a threadbare
love affair

doomed from the very start

and if I know
you at all,


I know you've gone too far.