After these two years I have learnt
how to follow every step across each
floor; every right angle of every wall,
to walk toward the shower/shitter
in darkness: I could make the walk
with my eyes closed.
Two years ago – February
14th – such a lovely Valentine gift! –
I moved in to this house of unloved things
& became one of them.
Until gold & blue colours, like
bright sunlight meeting an ocean,
appeared at my door.
Soon, every week we broke the law,
as society locked-down I crossed town
so we could spend days & nights
drinking together, fucking each other
as if there would be no tomorrow
& not caring either way.
Then the weeks
became months; the winter
crawled through spring & became summer.
All the while I pined for another: my
wildflower amour, my amante, the one
who sent me into exile & into
this house with its smell of neglect,
self-pity & cigarette smoke…until
their moonlight eyes returned from dreams
to begin a day where we could satiate
our longing for sweet nostalgia.
So I unfurled & left behind
everything I found in those Ocean Eyes.
I followed the path back toward
life before exile but
of course, it couldn’t last:
it was doomed from the start & that
is when I met the raven with the soul
of a van Gough landscape,
but by then it was too late & escape
was all I craved…
Through it all I let my attention drift
into filthy depths of desecration.
Until raven hair, sunset lips,
sibylline eyes & such slender fingertips
fell from the sky to find
in a blue so ugly when compared to
the sky in which they used to fly.