Gifts

Gifts A shoe boxbrimful with blossommatchboxfull of smokethimbleful of dust pocketfuls of rustsuitcase full of threadbare leaves breath of sunlightcaught in the curtainscarrier bag of broken glassthe crumbled angel of a bus shelterswirl of leavesscratching the streetshadows from my fractured palmshandfuls of sparrows spill of chordsunder your bedall the starsfrom a starlingraininside a piano

Swift

Swift Born like a switchbladeflicked openlocked openspend your lifeskimming and splicingcurrents of airwill your wings and tailsnap off when you die?the stone of your bodywill it fall to touch the earthfor the first time?will sky take root?as it cracks from your brainamidst the long grass whispering above youglinting in the old light like soft knives

September

September Sunlightsettling like warm snowleaves litfrom withindreams of fields smothered in ashthe long sighsummer spentsinged and scarredarmour cracking opensnake easing out ofits old scalesa plucked owlreveals its thin sinewsthe single sparkthat lit everythingcooling in the cruciblesilver darkening to pewterworld rememberingflaring before fadingember at the endof its namegently breathing

Shadows

Shadows 1.When I think of youthe sea touches my shadowsinters sand to glass within its dark2.at the heart of my heartin the dark of my darkthe long late sunlightmaking our shadows touchcovering us in its cloth

Barn owls

Barn owls Wing tips dipped in dawnghosts with bodieshaunting and hauntedpowdered in firestained by sundissolving from the insidegold smoke curls againstthe roof of their skullsbefore rocking downslow in the still airslow like snowsnow like shrapnelembedding itselfin our dark fieldsthe paleness of scarssealing them inthe whitenessof their silent bladesrusting deep inside us

How we drank fire

How we drank fire How we drank fireto jump start our heartshow the memory of fields blows us openturns us into the tatters of doorshow the inside of our hearts are lined with fieldstasting the sunlight in the dark of our bloodhow sparrows turn to ash as we dream themhow the sun buries itself into... Continue Reading →

Return of sound

Return of sound threadbare light of a prayer bright as newborn fingers slow sun a buried balloon rising from the earth quiet empty rooms crack like emberssheet of a song slid under the doorthe dream of a storm quietly unlaces the skybird shadows breathe across the grain of the wood sea purrs sucking darkness backcurtains... Continue Reading →

The eternal darkness of a sun filled sky

The eternal darkness of a sun filled sky Scars in the icehealed with icemaking up constellationsas the cold flares through ussurfacing through our skinfire from dead starsfalls upon usthe ghost of featherseverything goneexcept the taste of snowsand in our bedsyour kiss still dissolvingon my tongue

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