Everything starts with a mirror image.
Born, with only seconds apart before
Misty-eyed mothers, spinning
Their slurred syllabic yarn
Still warm from the oven – look into the essence
Of reflection
For someone they care for in words.
Wet tendrils, muscle uncovered
They might see themselves there, in
The red festered pucker
Of skin, bone and collective
Hair – whilst we splutter and spew
Through and through, assault tears
At our chests. We bear.
Albino eyes heavy and goaded as crustacean
Shells, lichen – liquid foam through the nostrils
Secondary tide of unloving. Synonymous smell
Flares like kitchen cleaner, bleach.
Until it is we really see
Ourselves uncovered.
Endeavour up as you dwell, feel the sacraments
Of your own sleep, heavier steps
The rise and fall, repeats, the empty chasm
Hypnologic harmonies.
Sometimes wet in your eyes I think you see
We wait for death to take his leave, beating
Clods of earth, still sopping
Like the last thing of a dream.
Now when you breathe, that fleeting fresh new
Look at me. The sweet peppermint of someone’s
Seasoned breath. Upon the weeks weeping
Collects its liquid silver
Congregating, dull appealing
At my cheek.
Yours, the flecks and arcs of fluted bone
A porcelain sheath skims skeleton
And how I did regard the smile that made my own
As yours. Yes, the hard grief that lives with
Every frown, when nostalgia splays hot paws
Domestic form
Upon childhood’s cheeks like hallowed ground.
Memoirs of lemonade, a frothy saturate sour
And fizz, yet shallow
Spiracles suddenly embraced, a fine green lace
Wrapped around, around, our muggy hours.
Eating, bleating blows upon the rug -
A blotted feeling flow across the floor
An inarticulate lowly sheen
At every corner, open sore.
And yet still wields you close, a winter shawl
Particularly roman shield
Shows space to wipe spittle
From the hole
Of caustic jaws
And crumbled knees.
I feel
The wind warmed in its empty roar
Whorish, hungry, animal
Beat down at your ear, its conical cove
Lift wisps of hair in morning sun.
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