to know light from my pages
reflected into your face
sunk into the sea glass of your eyes
to know light from your face
snowed blossom into the dark
of my words
my hand a sparrow
dreaming in the bowl
of your palm
the seabed still remembers
sunlight upon its skin
I don’t think about the thorns
I think about the blackberries
of your love
how they reveal the labyrinths
of my fingerprints
that touches the dark
trying to find your face
how the wind
hisses a sigh
through the reeds
how the sea sings
far inland
held together
by threadbare threads
my frayed feathers
stroke the sky
from the ground
heart a grate
full with ash
carried out
to the garden
on a warm
windy night
share the snowfall
from a streetlight with you
shoulders dusted with shine
caves will call
to the sky
sky will become
ceiling
scars like lips sewn shut
kiss without tongue
a candle burned
flame sunk
into the column
of its body
tears viscous
with lives lost
cum cloudy
with ghosts
of lives
never lived
the ghost of fireflies
froth from the fractured minds
of the thistles
the burning breeze
flakes the fields
the cry of church bells
across the city
serpents of scent
wrapped round your wrists
the hinges of your heart
sprinkles rust like pollen
as the dark wind of your blood
squeezes through its doors
left ajar