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RKM Nov 2011
Us
We are gathered here today in a space
cluttered with you and you who I’ve cried and tore
The voices that I’ve played in my auditory canal
When sentience has made me raw.
And our collective limbs have babbled through fields
or roved on roads of tyre
Watched mitosis play with our fingers
So our heads float to bricks that are higher  
We are sewn together by memories
Shooting synapses bounce inbetween brains
The first time she wobbled a milk stone
The pink cardigan left on that train.
We will stretch out our patience to mountains
Nearly burst in our tallies to ten
But there’s always a rope shared between us
Always straw in our symbiotic den.
RKM Nov 2011
When his eyes first fell upon her
She was choosing avocados
In the fruit and vegetable aisle.
And he watched how her thumbs lingered
On the base of the alligator pear
And pressed, maternally.
He feigned interest in the cabbages
Whilst sensing her delicate architecture
Through his peripheral gaze.
He thought that somewhere,
In real or imaginary life,
They would soon bathe together.
And when they did,
They soaked for years in secrets,
Details suffusing through their lips and arms,
Water-hole satisfaction and moonlit deserts
To make them feel they might have transcended cabbages
And be pervading a rhapsodic realm
They forgot their friends watching in greenery,
Subsumed by each-other,
They felt no need
To live in a world of relativity and apples.
Their love-traced sphere tightened around them,
Until it ****** at the edges of their skin
And wailed when they parted.
Tighter it grew, elastic dug into their humid thighs
Contorting their once harmonic bodies
That used to fit like crosswords.
And they each became ugly to the other
As the seconds ingested their perfection
And they bickered like flailing urchins
In a deep sea soiled darkness.
Decisions were made and paroxysms detonated
And they were taken back by their
Fungal friends with tissue offerings
And ethanol.
Time passed, and memories were binned
Periodically on tuesdays
Until neither knew the other
And they would pass in the supermarket
With no more than a quickened gait
And a silent thud in each ribcage.

But neither could buy avocados.
RKM Nov 2011
You haven't looked back for weeks.
As though you've forgotten how
Your life lines are straining through my palms
Up, you're reaching, pupils fixed on Pluto

I watch your hands bite
To a hold out of their reach.
Your hungry fingers
With their goal set to the clouds.

You chalk your grip
And the white dust trickles-
Spirals though the space between us
And lands on my sweater.

I haven't dotted your mind
Or crossed your dreams
Though
- the rope hooked to your stomach
Dangles in my fists.
Extended version of previous poem.
RKM Oct 2011
You haven't looked back for weeks.
As though you've forgotten how
Your life lines are straining through my palms
Up, you're reaching, pupils fixed on Pluto

I haven't dotted your mind
Or crossed your dreams
Though
- the rope hooked to your stomach
Dangles in my fists.
RKM Oct 2011
They had played for too long.
The stretching shadows sang in minor
whilst tackling gusts
scratched the colour from his hands
and tugged wire through her clutches.

Their fettered aircrafts swooped
in plunging shifts:
seconds of clouded rhapsody
and cotton screams-
equalled in deflection
and discord.

Their colourful counterparts
climbed higher, twisting
in solar breezes.
They gaped upwards with
tense suggestions
neither knowing
how to sever
their tangled kite-strings.
RKM Oct 2011
It was mutation. An  aside that pushed
the boundary and slipped
further than madness  
                                           (Distilled water sank
                                   the cup on the sideboard.)

Necessity prevails,
                                  But
(sister, don't project your ugliness onto me)
It aches. The muscles of normality (the ones that pretend)
                           burn with the acid that used to feel satisfying.

Now, chiffon veils tug away in fingers of
neon sprites              (floating over Naumburg)

A spirit can only be free for so long
before it's locked away.
RKM Oct 2011
I still wonder of those whispered words
you latched away
in chains of a tongue
I couldn't reach.

I wonder if they were slippery nothings
to erode my clumsy fences
or denizens of your subconscious
written in a bolder ink

I envied your elegantly robed secrets
as the morning sparks
brought the weathered realisation that
we had waded too far
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