Hanging Garden

love guides me through turbulent dreams                                                                    

vivid self-states transforming in visions of clear blue skies                                                

I see the beauty and sorrow in your eyes                                                                        

glittering in the dark shadows of night, watching                              

the flowers bloom, the meadow song rise from the milky smoke                          

of dawn, crepuscular bodies dwelling in quiet storms                                                

nonplussed in the glamour of paintings                                                                              

red lips wander like beating hearts, simmering under glowing moonlight                            

my eternal response is saturnine                                                                                            

I've learned to lose the ones I love, faint breaths murmuring                                              

by candlelit piano, I see boys swimming naked in heartless lakes                                          

inter dimensional photosynthesis, echoing driftwood                                                

when I look at you I see the truth, but it's lifeless and tainted                                              

a spiralling staircase to nowhere, like the thoughts of a dark psycho                                        

I say things but I don't know if I truly mean them                                                            

I laugh at the dumbest things and rip off the bandage                                    

a little too soon, and sulk when I know I'm in the wrong                                                      

that magical feeling is palliative, a mouthful of peeled lemon            

when it's grey and raining and this cult of meaningless spit means nothing                          

I look out for chirping birds and think of my best friend                                              

times when we don't make sense, and our memories are fading                                                      

I speak to you in letters concerning death and write you poems about the sunrise  

allusions and history we forget, love so beautiful it hurts                                        

every time we lie it cuts a little deeper, and the glowing shipwreck of my heart aches

the petals on my fingertips disintegrate                                                              

my knees shake with the white of disconcerting pith                                                                    

I take the rheum, I take the chimera, levitating in a looking glass    

all the things I can't ignore, I pull and tear my tears apart                                                  

happy and content, thorns I adore                                                                                

continents, lifetimes, nostalgic birdsongs                                                                            

red and pink in dreams, attentively caressing photographs                                     

pulsating veins and heartbeats, watching you leave                                                                            

through the window.