In a chain groove by saltboxes, picture our contorting bodies, like a fetish on the tesseract
Are you ashamed of your nakedness? The distance you see, hanging onto yesterday. I am a face on the scar
Masturbating. In the blue finery of the ear
Trees are a gimlet-eyed category. I listen to their psithurism, like slow burning music. I sink into them with glinting fear like weather birds
Tearless
Pervasive
Today I\'m wearing different eyes
I study your ballet. Time, fading like a zine sticker after years of betrayal or a dream after sleep
Shiny and white with a salvo of words. Dyed-in-the-wool
We are parallel hulls, possessing storms. Vital roots in ribbons like metaphors ravaged by winter teeth
And the need to be more than this
Mundane drudgery capering in shrines. The tree in its glad rags
Masochistic, like being penetrated
Watching the moonlight in quicksand
I adore all of that Dionysiac eyewash. I\'ve never been chary about it. The way you exit in blood. How you return loved, like mossy pulp. Cautious of the things you love. Drunken nights shining like pregnant sows. Your bad habits
Licking his moustache
We come here to talk. Ideas in our wallets. Sipping orange alcohol Remembering the sea of boyhood. Afternoons beholding the loneliest thoughts
Romantic like the nocturnes they play
Fiction factories. Kissing you with lies. Disappearing into years wild with hopeless dreams. Pinewood and milkweed. Birthmarks. Existing in colour
Boys, unicorns.