Tuesday, 25 April 2017



The longing is smouldering, sinuous in a damp
halo around a street lamp on that lonely lane
from the faraway places, across the sea.
The angst aches in wave upon wave of
hi there, hello there, remember me? And blurring
they suck upon the rocks, their tears as guilty
as the night that draws down the wick of day.

The volcanic ash of Eros settles down the pulse
in the breath of a dying day, so far way,
thinking of you thinking of me.
Oh, pull the rip cord and jump!
Float into the arms of my thoughts of you,
enfolding the candle's shadows in a dance
of dark congealing, with no feeling in my fingers.

Slip away into the miles, still looking back
as smaller smallers down I frown and groan
inside the treasure box plundered the while.
The faded picture pouring dust and
must it have been that way. The other day
when I thought of you so far away.
Another day, another city, in another country,
your breath in my sails away the smarting tears
upon the breast of a wave and flung back
into my face turning once again to you.

So far away and raising the ghostly hairs
on my neck of leaning upon your shoulder
and whispering come back, come back
across the sea of mind how we fall
into each other's arms in the thought
that this was never meant to be.
That I am here, and you are there,
far away across the sea.

So, put your hands in mine and crossing
over the sea, and wrist over wrist we'll
spin the dance about the allotted spot,
where hearts meld and minds merge,
and you and me are me and you
once more.

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