That winter looked too good on you.
It adored you, like a mother –
Birth certificate confusion.
The summer was almost obvious.
Winter was better. Lurking.
You could camouflage in the cold.
But it was also something more profound:
Months followed you, mirroring.
The skies seemed to shiver.
A world hiding in hibernation
While I watched your cheeks blister;
Dimpled red apples, licked by frost.
The tarmac crunched like rubble underfoot
As you spun away, plucking out the air
With the premonition of blossom
Concealed somewhere deep in your smile.
You knew the eventuality of change
And I opened each day like a gift.
God. You were gut-punch beautiful.
In the devotion of those short, dark days
Nothing could stop you.
But like the snow, tumbling
Down altitude’s umbilical cord,
It all soon would be fallen.
You sleep between the sighs and the sunrise:
Scratch marks running down your back like train tracks,
Chasing the curvature of your pale spine,
The memories of the moans in the black.
You wake each day with fresh finger traces,
Repeatedly healed in the night until new.
Different; distant. Slowly, you are time-changed –
A concertina of hands holding you.
But not mine. Now I just stitch the remnants
Of what is left in the dark of my dreams,
Wearing your aftershocks as a pendent,
Oscillating wildly between extremes.
The doctors would call my love a crisis.
My lips condense heartbreak into silence.
He was hers and his eye sockets throbbed
Like two syncopated hearts.
She took him in, biting into the soft.
Perfectly she captured his body.
She tasted him, she pressed him.
This was an interrogation.
He was held in the black without a lamp-lawyer
And he blinked to no effect.
The deeper dark of her open ‘O’ searched for answers,
So she sunk down and through him like an anchor.
The wake of her died above.
She wrapped him in sensation.
He filled her completely
And spluttered animal moans to hold her attention.
She found honesty
In the sounds tumbling
From his tongue.
She wanted him to know
That she shared no reminders.
Sometimes she loved him.
Then, just for her, he burst like a ripe balloon
And shattered every night into dawns.