Stubs

Stubs

1.

body clouded
with all the light it holds
never lit just held
in the dark of my pocket

2.

a dark vein
runs through us
waiting
to be struck against
another dark
hoping
to be touched
till we catch
then lifted
to make of it
what we will

body runs clear
dripping
down the wrist
of those
who raise us
cooling
as it curls
smoke solidified
wrapped round
their arm
milky as the ghost
of a scar

3.

on the tip
of our tongues
we passed
the stub of a candle
its flame
a canary
filling each other
with fluttering
it went out
whilst I held
it in my mouth
it filled me
with smoke
I could’t exhale

4.

smoke
lights final breath
skates its signature
into the darkened air
its fine bubbles
looks like dust
settling everywhere
you once were

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