There is something gentle
in the way you move your hands
like waves rolling in on the shore
when you speak
like tides that retreat
currents that turn and meet
and I meet you there
in the waves, in the water

because no wonder we break
on a sunny day
over nothing at all
except small fragments
of worn out places


We watch
white mist climb
over the dunes
along the grass
into front yards
through windows

the thick air, suffocating
even the seagulls

but time is never fast enough
to take us back
or forward

we roll over
and over again
onto shores
washing up bones
and worn out coins




the sky is brighter in the evenings
you tell me

I watch as a ship leaves the harbour

I feel sorry for everybody
- You feel a tingling climbing up your neck-
as they walk with veils through
fences laced with fires and faces
lining fields spreading into wide green fields
of nothing. Except wind
and grass and
light.

We are, after all
blades of light.
-You think you've thought of something. -
At night, running towards mirrors and portals,
turning together in the cycles of heroic mortals,
stars, suns, static so bright
this is the educated land.
This is the desert.
We have lost all our water.
The only shade is cacti.

You see you can't look around the corner.
Everywhere you go there are bullets that twist and turn.
Bullets that fill the houses of parliament.
I run and get shot.

morning light breaks
a city wakes
chimney smoke subdues
streetlights turn in
to lights through kitchen windows
front doors that open
car engines ignite
I fall asleep

never thought I could feel like this
never thought I would walk before deserts of sunlight
and feel nothing but cold wind, my heart as ice

never thought it was possible
to break while being put together
to forget while remembering
to be inside my body and outside it
to be alive but not living

a sparrow sits on the gutter
a boy walks into the forest
a ship sits anchored in the harbour

sometimes
it's all too much
most times
it's not enough

do you know that feeling?
where you can't really
place what's wrong and you
can't really explain what's
happening around you but
you know you don't feel
alright and it's like you're
slipping away under the ice
and no one's trying to break
through?
do you? do you know?

It's 3am and I can still feel
your collarbone underneath
my fingertips, I can still feel
your calloused hand in mine
and I can still taste the
***** - in my lungs and on
your lips.
I can still hear the way
your words fell together,
and I can still hear you telling me
you love me.
I can still feel your body
against mine, your fingers touching
my skin,
your voice soft in my ear.
I can still feel the way
your teeth dug into my neck,
my skin,
leaving a mark to remind me
of you while I sleep alone,
in a bed too big for just one person
in a bed too cold without your warmth
in a bed too silent without your
uninterrupted breathing
while you're sleeping.
I can't seem to sleep if
you're not holding me
and I'm still trying to decide
whether I'm too far in or if
I just can't get out -
get out of the depths of your eyes,
the warmth of your body,
the rhythm of your words.
I guess I just don't want
to leave you behind.

I found myself barely breathing
on the bathroom floor with no one around,
except the guy downstairs who I
realised I love,
even though I told myself
never to love again.
Maybe this time,
my veins will stay closed
and my lungs will have air.
Maybe this time,
loving him won't turn wrong.