Your hand
Constellations
speckles your fingers
as if stars
spat upon them
or galaxies
rising for breath
from your blood
all night
you’ve been painting
the night
the sable brush
of your flame
sooting the back
of my hands
I feel the slight scratch
of shooting stars
as your hand
heated heroin
frothing
within mine
Shoals Of Starlings 
Perfectly trippy
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Thank you Tony, so good to see/hear from you again, was worried you had disappeared. Good to see you have released some new music as well, love it.
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Your writing continues to move and inspire me, Andrew. Someday I will write about my absence in the blog. – Tony
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