the seabed still remembers
sunlight upon its skin

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pirouette upon rusted blades
across scorched streets
dissolve into the spray
of their own sparks
rust and ash
pollen and snow

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we breathe in
the dark of each other

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a blizzard of butterflies

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the cry of church bells
across the city
serpents of scent
wrapped round your wrists

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walking with you
turned fields
into prairies

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leaves become
same colour
as the fire
that made them fall

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I think of the shadows we could have created
floorboards laid together
the seams of dark between us
thick with spilled stars

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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

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heart a grate
full with ash
carried out
to the garden
on a warm
windy night

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sunlight and midnight
lines the inside
of our chests

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light a candle
with me
all night
we’ll watch
the lowering
of the flag
of its flame

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you’re the barn owl
born from the ground bones of a bonfire
in the font turned firepit
at the heart of my crumbled cathedral

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silver poplars shiver
with the echo of light
wind gathers in the trees

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