Apart Remembered (& others)

I’ll wander if I’m wrong, but I think it was the light,

a happy light that shone all two-weeks-long

and trundled over countryside to feel

apart that’s missing.

In denser nights, two-clouded breath

seeks out to find the part that’s left behind,

still tuned for strumming.

But it’s here, in this clearing

all smeared in your colours,

the paint spans nearly a full torso, humming

and chanting a false incantation.

Sickened, I leave it

to those mawkish delusions

and go back to my bus in the country.


This too has its place (and place

my hand on it to prove it,

shift it to the right)

this hand, these lips and thighs

all out my jurisdiction,

so I slide

one book on top another,

make sure they’re aligned.


Thinking how, I never stop.

There’s a million ways, no-

more probably,

to ply the words and find the thoughts,

find myself in the right situation.

I’ve wound there, well enough, enough times.

But never perfect, no arm quite right,

no legs so tightly bound together

to make it seamless

so it seems like it’s a natural progression

from one thing to another. One things leads to

another, you know.

But no such chance arose.

I know it’s pointless

mulling over all those lost plans

but happiness stands between you and I, love.



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