just when things were starting to look up,
the whole sky
fell like a tonne of bricks.

the wheel turns
and gains no ground.
the wheel turns eternally
and in this endless moment
gains no ground.
the wheel turns,
wearing itself away
in the void and vacuum.
where is this place
if not where i find my love
without you?

the world turns;
how many more rotations
until i turn
—as the apex torsion
of all movement in the universe—
to see you?
there the world will be still
and true.

yes, it is
so, that
the word
is the ******
of the thing—
but it
can happen

that a name
gives life.
it is so say it is
so. say it is. it
remains.
a trace.
at least
forever say forever as if forever
will never
have been
the same
again.

we
will always
have
always
come
what may.
say come what may.
as if always would be always.
a wager.
if you can. if you can.
for you can.

i came here by chance
i remained here by chance
and for the sake of chance
i decide
i will struggle on.

do not die for a definite nothing.
live for an uncertain something
to come, for it shall certainly come
so long as you bet your life on it.

every inch of your flesh
is a seraphic encounter.
consecrate me.

a circle:
the difference between what it contains
and what it is contained by;
an empty form;
an opening;
without beginning, without end;
found in solitude perfect;
a thing that is a soul.

a voice is solitude,
impenetrable,
somewhere else, among
others.

loneliness is a love that cannot communicate
not even with itself.
the way out is the way home, and back again.

a child falls over:
i laugh
through the tears.

forgive me while i rest, please;
i only find freedom
in silence and solitude.

i sink into you
like a prehistoric beast in a tar pit.

i know there is solace somewhere
between the pages
i haven't the strength to turn.

what's your story?
and what are your dreams?
these questions i long to ask
and longer still,
in immortal desire
of these questions posed to me...
i fantasise without substance
of having solid,
topological answers.
they are constructions
of smoke and shadows
while behind my brow unburdened.

oceanic eyes,
i'm lost at sea.
i'll find the golden shore
when you see me.

i've buried myself in lies and wasted time.
would you believe me
if i told you i was treasure?
x marks the spot: dig deep, i need you to.

tender the longing
of days gone
unforgotten.
what luck that all that goes
returns in altered form.

here again
thinking of what could have been
and what will never be
again, never
—enough.

we are propelled into a world
from nothing,
a vast world, a glorious and terrible world,
a world full of mystery, tragedy and laughter,
dancing, responsibility, horror and struggle,
ending in sickness and death;
a world stretching far back before us,
bloated with debt and expectations,
devoid of our consent, deaf to our cries.
at first a light blinding—hiding shadows—,
the horizon so open and terrain so broad,
but with every step, a piece of the world crumbles away,
another path, a mountain, an ocean, a face crumbles away
into nothingness—
with every step, a space gained and a place lost forever,
guilt, questions, freedom, new fitting chains,
a narrowed horizon—
with every step,
a fate refined—
with every choice: destiny,
to which we remain blind.

how good it is, then, that we might find travelling companions
that make all this worth our time,
and tools like language, memory and connectivity
to re-make all this into our own time,
and together, step over the horizon of history.

i am learning to love with my ears
for if there is such a wonder as love
beating hearts are too frail a vehicle.
a heart hears nothing, a voice is the all.
i could not want for more than a voice.

the gentle swell
of your bountiful life
merging
with the pallid horizon
that touches a place where i
cannot accompany you.

quit your search for the attention you so desperately want
and learn to find
and love the attention you're already getting.
this is not quitting while you're ahead,
this is not getting left behind.

countless open eyes
like wild flowers
in the vibrant Spring,
each pair festooned with ruin.

tempests out of breath.
better an experiment
gone horribly wrong
than a life left untested.
rest, repeat, difference.

the shadows slowly encroach down the hall;
so suddenly the day is gone,
wasted, men and women somewhere struggled through it,
others buckled under it, sunken mid flight crossing oceans
and man made borders fleeing wars and geographical destitution,
children starved through it, profits were made,
and the room is steeped in darkness.
through the window i see
the white orb moon, distant, glowing, painted
onto an ice blue sky, dashed with ghostly clouds:
i look away for a moment,
i look back:
the sky turned to deep cobalt
and the moon, still distant, radiant, not departed,
is the face unchanged?
the sky so deep now,
this could be the depth of the ocean,
but the moon
still just beyond my fingertips.

every blessing
is the other side of a curse
but the same cannot be said
always of the reverse.
(though i may tell a lie of privileged lives.)

how deep does our love go?
perhaps down to the core
of the earth - molten
iron nourishing roots,
preventing this planet
from being a barren place
for now - at the very least.

the discovery
of others
is the greatest discovery
anyone
could ever make.
recovery is more than an empty sound.
if you
don't know
this truth, then know
you are close.
closer than you could ever know.
resume the struggle
and you shall be
rewarded
in full.
between one and another
there is a pilgrimage without end.
a friend will save your life.
the body
is the location
of grace.
all the beauty of the world
can be witnessed
in a single caring face.

she said she was a Tory,
i took a risk and i kissed her...
tasted like bacon, all cold and dead,
and now
i'm in debt.

in the dim grey light
of a rainy afternoon
tires roll over wet road.
if i could stretch out the night
the world would still be lit
by the daybreak of your eyes.

somewhere in between the outer reaches
of meaningless ***, and the inner tomb
you land in after the last spinning room
of several tequila shots too many

you will discover, your vast finitude
is not everything it’s cracked up to be
and the siren songs of your hidden sea
signal the wreckage of solicitude

but everything that sinks reaches a place
where up is clearly distinguished from down;
though light receded, and breath forgotten,

something ever unaltered, if but trace,
opens the way to return to the sound
of graceful footsteps, on paths untrodden.

in the beautiful eyes
of my staunch comrade,
untold suffering
of the voiceless countless nameless.

infinity is easy to reach – woe to them who find infinity when they had sought for eternity,
and mistake the two

who saw them dancing beneath the streets, at the beach?
no-one

a sea between, multiplicity, vectors in every direction, noise—

i can’t hear you
you’re too far away

the only difference between you and me and all the rest
is distance and intimacy and all the rest

speech is belief

an abstract navigation

a threshold unto itself

somewhere else, far off

stay in bed,
the apocalypse
can't bother us here.

for so much longer,
i will live with my disdain
for a world
in which i must be forgiven
for being young and un-empowered.

grieving the loss of things
i never had.
so much sun outside.

creeping in the night:
the clouds
across the moon.

we turn off the light,
we lie down in bed,
your body, and mine
always in different rooms.
i dread my waking alone.

no one can bring me down
because i can't get any lower.
at the bottom,
i've found something.

darkness,
such infinite darkness:
stargazing.

what's red, green, black
and packed full of empowered women?
the future
if we're to have one.

in the waking night,
the body's muscles ache,
but secretly,
its imagination gallops.
crossing distance, never reaching you.

in the true temple
of solitude,
no emotions, no passions
are forbidden.
but no pilgrimage has been made.

the path between us
is made of words
and with every step i take,
i step on something jagged,
and i have so far to go.
(i go on, there's nowhere else
worth going.)

the body i live with
is not comfortable with me,
expressed in a voice
without sound
that is an occasional harmony.

i want to know you
like wet clothing knows your skin.

the time we spent, the smile
and the look
still haunting me.
accursed be the humid heat
that awoke me from the dream.

i would never have found you
had it not been for the dark,
oh star, cold, distant,
long accepting star.

seen from time to time,
effortlessly irrupting
in this dull, grey world:
the rainbow veiled mystery,
untouched by fate, beckoning.
never approaching,
i paint grey on grey,
deciphering my symptom.
never the right time, i must
overtake myself!
i can, because i must!

i would
talk about performing
any sacrifice
if that could, as in my dreams,
convince you to want me.

the impoverished
night-time, flashing blue, black,
is full of sirens,
but there is no one
coming to save us.