Saturday, 25 July 2020


I told you I thought sometimes,
perhaps you said words,
that only kept you safe? Ones you knew
I'd put away,
and cherish,
somewhere by my heart? Not the other-truth
I'd pick apart and offer to the
sky-gods, in your name?
Words that kept me believing,
the same, stone reasons,
of precious,
and grace?
I came to know your abashed
face: the one splashed across
with crimson innocence;
a cyclical dance - the one
that began
the whole thing;
let me put dead swallows
in their nests, and ghostly,
they will sing
of how they fell;
us as well; or you, or I,
sometime tellers
and believers of knights'
an unskilled spy
and the happiest girl in the world.
I only had to meet your
and it was all an adventure,
all cherry pies and aeroplanes,
twinkling lights
and flayed-open veins;
raw, and honest;
and how could
I ever doubt it?
from the soul; what was?
what is,
without it?


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