handfuls ripped free

sequins like shrapnel

litter the room

palms full of splinters

they hurt to close

stepping on your shadow

I cut my feet open


the whisper of your dance

soaked into the floorboards

the storm of your skirt

distorting my dark

crumpling my sea

your shipwreck

shifts a little in the silt


I feel the settling dust

then the settling stillness

and I wait

for a feather of sunlight

come to rest in the centre

of the exposed ribs

the claws of a man-trap

rusted open


a cage with no door

the ghost of your songbird

never leaves

dark stars streak through

its silver feathers

its song

splashes of solder

all over the floor




















3 thoughts on “Silver

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