Too Long

too long this distance served through innocence.

I know you still exist somewhere as plural in a two.

are you thirsting still for fickle's chance of arm?

another day tomorrow spins unconscious latter-days

limbs aside, how high a price I pay your sisters song?

a ferry-ride to the dumb sound of anon

trace my steps as author for a clue.

I am no less a man than you a woman pawned;

nine lives of cat. body mass. honeycomb engraved.

still I hear you spitting wood on a rolling tongue

on the right ear of the suns' nocturnal child

through bull and horn in a bees' bad tempered mind;

where are you, are you dead, or are you pleasantly disguised?

the gates are cracked, the solstice bells revived.

no second voice of life impatient one!

all rumours lead me close your womb of woes

I have seen you light a postcard with your nose

glow as lanters twinned with fathers feathers decomposed

to dance away an hour with a sleeping pill in drag.

shave your head a colour of my body in a bag;

spare me the blush of innocence, dearest one.

no day is safe from spite of sound, anon

I know you still exist somewhere as plural in a two

I am wide awake impatient one

trace my steps as author for a clue;