conversation stills
music in another room
Monday is too soon
Poetry?
nightingale morning
nightingale morning
air glass cold
cloud-free sky warning
fortunes untold
Seventeen
Seventeen is my lucky number.
It is how old I was when
that thing
happened and look
who’s laughing now.
My lucky colour is bright red.
It’s not my favourite but it is the colour of
that thing
happening
the colour that stays in my head.
You are my lucky person.
You found me one night after
that thing
happened and since then – well, you know.
the wolf bites
the wolf bites the moon
wisp clouds mask red nakedness
shadows on my mind
the night-bitten moon
the night-bitten moon
hangs smaller than yesterday
my interest wanes
tides falling
tides falling
low water marks frame deserts
please
hold my hand
tides rising
tides rising
high water marks increasing
hold my hand
I have walked through storms
I have walked through storms
rain and tears alike course down
my weatherproof skin
day and night I know that you care
no sun nor rain
a rainbow arced
dampened voices
sing in the dark
day and night I know you are there
day and night I know that you care
sleeping warriors
sleeping warriors
winter winds gather the true
in the west light dies