becoming echoes

there are not

many moans left,

i am a hollow

waiting for its jar

to be star loaded

to be glistened

upwards, make

me a constellation

across the jugular,

make the moonbeams -

thru’ out my mind's

shudder, that once i

saw you first a waltz

of proteins built their

desert into a thirst

how gazes had you

caught, photocopies

of for the retina to

replay, sex is faster

when scorched

i was in true orbit

and a comet with

every heartbeat,

it says “come rip

my blood apart”

secure in this

drowning amongst

the tangled cotton

reefs, how the white

waves leaned

how the arch of my

soul learned until

everything about me

buRned, took ownership

possess the red hot moon

a watchfulness come

too soon, do you think

me in the shadows of your

wife? slain there post

orgasm?

was i ever noticed a

thorn thru’ out, wading

like a footstep way out

of depth? there’s that

smile that hangs me sideways

another dream where

the reservoir fills wet

where my is head at,

with the meteors and a

bludgeon of unmet blushes

near wasn’t enough

nearly misses of being

bent backwards, if only

groped by the precipice,

there’s a mask to stride behind

so the sky fluttered under

eyelids made the cinema

surreal a man dressed as

a swan and i broken bits of

pond you immerse in

surely that voltage had to end,

rid each nerve ending, that moment

so wished for still, that perfect

inside out rainbow, the never had

the pretend i built around

an entire falsehood city inhabited

by lied to people, it was a

happening of sadness to glimpse

you gone, but gone implies that

you were firstly here for real

daily back to your marital bed

back to the honey of your true

song,  i know the shells you

are strewn for are feminine,

whilst echoes line another life

my every glance exhibits dusk

whilst waking, edges of loneliness

are lamentable and sigh soldered

a heart’s worth of faded flowers

the pastel of feint summer

scented upon memories a touch

taken by bees or so i dreamed,

words whispered whilst retracing

those connections of dew, but

quite in the dark i knew it wasn’t you

once was being remembered but didn’t

really occur, its outline is vague and

wanting to disappear, an echo not quite

reached as if tomorrow never existed

there that unlovable silhouette ceases

contemplating the heart’s drowned width

the heart tries

it tries to be rid its

steel bay of loosened pictures

agape in jagged frames

photographs returning

to their saddened places

where appearing stood is

where the grey pier finishes

that song of being worn, of

pebbles being rubbed smaller,

where the unthankful waves

scribble, wet and exhaled

incremental glistening, “i have

sired my palace out of thorns

and live and leave in each

sharpened room

the hurt

glistens in

glistens out

where the seaweed hearses repeat in shrouds

the world that

i knew, the fingerprints

that made up its glass

turned to a headline horizon of bluish stratus and bruises

no-one is no-one is no-one

shadows come to revisit

to reclothe its gloom,

i built up the air about

you with jewels - to let

them become wreathes

of rain, the flames have

run its bones, does sorrow

ever really finish?

clues of you ever being

like ashes like yesterday,

wishful has such deep slopes

a hole for the sun to be swallowed

when

the fall

of kisses

began