that grass-roots feeling of loss
that cliched unsaid unfinished shiz
that heart-worm burial
that digging notion of things gone wrong
the unfixable memory convoy that won’t leave and parades up and down my mind
aisles and the corridor’s tight and the squeezing march grates on the sides and drags
me down with it
that corn fed turd that is you
a handprint on my psyche
a snow angel on my lawn
i’m a round eyed mess in a tight green dress
you’re a prick in jeans with a god-complex
loose visions of you
blue and darting
you’ve thickened up since i left
a hazed border between what really happened and what i think of when i think of you
a memory that’s darting
a memory that’s blue
clothed in walls and “take care of yourself”
Shared experience of a shared body,
Moments where I see your face change with pleasure, flicker through my vision,
It flits in my underwear and makes somewhere behind my eyes heavy.
Of course I still think of others sometimes, I’m no liar.
A new love reminds me of old ones, other intimacies that came and went, people whose bodies fitted differently with mine than yours does,
The comparative instinct draws me into worry, that our blossoming intimacy isn’t what it was with him or her, how should it be?
You’re so gentle with me, and I see real emotion in your eyes, feel real feelings in your touch.
Gentle affection, appreciation of another,
becomes a deep attachment
so that when you go,
I feel a mix of lost and sick
Wading through the troubles of how to plaster things back together
and fill an empty bed with whatever I can,
realistically an imaginary you,
if things had worked out differently.
The intrinsic beauty
The weight of the metal
not the man-given value though
the god-given worth.
Separated from the pain they cause – an artefact.
Something to run fingers through.
Sun-bright in your face,
Zoomed in sand
Beautiful heavenly fragments
Pieces of scattered rainbow.
Hues of yellow undertones on my skin
Your brown eyes follow,
shaped by years of victorious resilience.
Gentle white tiger stripes where I’ve thickened up
proved like a human gold-dough
A dusting of fingertip sprinkles on your neck
A touch of joy, relieved to sit on your lap
Forehead to forehead.
I stand between
Can we resolve the twin places?
They blend together
Where do I exist?
The harsh light fans out of the portal
Stepping over the pock-marked barrier,
Dirty finger marks on touch screen.
The oil from my skin on crisp white writing pages,
Digital words and shapes make harm on my human heart
The muscle reacts to the display, tandem feelings as I switch tabs
Soothing notifications/ message received comrade – I support you through this port-hole,
You support me.
I tap my keyboard for love of you, finger work
Emotional tech support.