Number 9

Getting trained,
Getting drained
of my perceptions and my past.

On the forehead, the blessed kiss
of your whisper, it is the ocean
when you cradle me in the bed.


Number 6

Plums in my cheeks
and feathers in my mouth
Sweet the first
it melts underneath
Overwhelming the second
it makes me nonsensical.
The squared edge of your neck
where my breath craves to pose
Your bulk straight legs
that my breath craves to follow
I can look at them
as forever is a moment.
Stay here
don’t move
don’t smile
don’t think about the time
Walk me home
I’ll walk you home back
I want to discover
that we are going to open
the same door.

Number 5

Salty lips
in a salty soul
As you talk
they blame you
Give them a blast
a jump on your wave
A draught across the ears
a lovely bone in the hair
And finally a pillow to rest their hands
while they’re pointing
at you.