you were my honey chain

the window has sucked the sun and

cloud fronts are bandaging everything and

everyone, feel memories lean whilst rain

words the filthy pane, tearfuls quite suicidal

a grey spire with a lightning bolt song,

that nutrition of light a remembering

tale, and goes on to tell “relive yourself

from the cadaver in that cellar of wordlessness”

drained there to stay there forgotten and in

dead stardom, then has climbed its bones

and stood in a suit of glass for thought to

reenact, as if the taste of you was now

oh how the sheets took our imprints like

lazy snow how twisting with fire the intention

to catch glows further encouraging the flame

whilst the tide beats against the headboard

that groan of splinters, that deeply wooded

ache, he sighed expletive and grenade’d and

was all over, drew his own wave inwards for the

unfurl to begin and gleaming began to peal

then tenderly, as leaves he would sediment me

one of ten thousand bodies, gently and asking for

the cave to groan, and something from the fountain

sang out like blissed-out-pearl-white-sticky-fish

and the body would, like a ship without a hull

be lost, be quite sunk whilst the voltages hurry,

whilst electricity crimsons blushes, whilst he,

the entire sky, arches me, and becomes a salt sea

becomes everything dew about, a dewdrop’s

spilling, gasps a stick of nectar inside whatever

is asking to bloom, handprints illustrate what is

about to be strewn, explicit-gone-eyed

now the disappointed statue lies still, enrobed with

the silence of losing, tomorrow cannot quit from

falling, such small hands, such tiny roots grew,

i loved you