Because I occasionally suffer from writer's diarrhoea.
~
THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO RULE
The frost was meant to rain upon your face.
With all the poetry of human creation
transmuted into the curve of your
cheekbone as you stand watching the
world fall, each jagged piece reflected
in your still blue gaze.
The stars were made to shine upon your brow.
Each shimmering mote of the nebulae
races at the speed of light across your
lips, which shiver for a second before
you fall back into shadow.
The heaven that could be yours is here.
You could have held the sun in your slender hands,
did ambition not pull you down into the
chasm that ate away your skin and turned you
into the thing you used to fear.
The storm has come to chase you down.
The lightning will follow in your fleet
footsteps and echo your desperate dreams as
you hunt them across the universe, trying
to rebuild your playground.
The skies have closed upon your show.
The rain would kiss away the wounds in your
eyes if you would but let them run over your
brittle shell. But it’s too late for redemption.
This bridge was broken long ago.
~
~
SPY, GLASS, MONSTER: A Love Song
I want to dissect you
Crawl beneath your skin,
Rest my head against the
ice of your collarbone
and breathe you.
I want to fill you up.
Sink my words like knives
into your brittle shield
and leave you with my dreams,
my nightmares.
I want to dance with you.
Break the glass of your
deception and make you move with me
and tear you down,
slowly, intimately.
I want to use you;
know what it’s like to
wear the skin that you wear,
to taint the same air
To tangle your silver tongue in mine
and suck you dry.
I want to become you.
Bring out the monsters;
it’s time to waltz
Bring down the smokescreens,
we’re up in the air
And there’s nowhere for us to go.
Bring in your fears.
I want to See you.
~
~
THE EXPLORER
If neither time not distance stood between us, I would
make a playland of your body and spend hours upon hours
tracing the fine lines of your smile, licking the tiny hairs
of your lashes as they flutter when you speak, and
catch your words like rare Asgardian birds before they
slip past the mortal coil, so that each gem spilling forth
from your mouth is immortalized within me.
If I could shrink myself to a hair’s breadth, I
would spend each precious second traversing
the mountain of your cheekbone, pausing only
to simmer myself in the warm scent of your skin
and envision my ultimate goal: the divine electric
pools of your eyes that nestle in a valley of
beautiful bones sheathed in faint silken crinkles.
If I were an animal, I would love you unreservedly
behind the mask of bestiality, lapping you up and
enveloping you against the howling cold of the wild
as every hair on my skin quivered with joy at the
intimate curve of your arm, your face, nestled against
my predatory sinew, and breathing the freedom of
giving myself to you as I never could before.
If I were an explorer of strange worlds and new
galaxies, I would burn a trail across the universe of
your torso, your hips, your velvet tongue; each piece
of you a testament to God’s divine work, that such
beauty occupies our reality, and it is I—the fortunate one
—who has tasted the truth of your splendour, and now
shine a light upon it for all to see.
~
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