i was a

paper crane so

perfectly constructed,

crisp corners,

creases exactly

where they needed to be

 

a fragile precision.

 

but all I want

is for you to

slowly unfold me

i heard on the street

that your dog had died.

​

i wondered

             if you were feeling sad,

​

and whether

your heart had closed over

             like a fist,

​

like the fullstop

             that ended

     the sentence you were speaking to me.

i wish to part this crimson curtain

            so heavy with the blood drip –

ping from the tapestry

​

and chords of string

     pulling at my limbs so they

​

                            s    t     r     e     t    c    h

​

and i am spread across

            the stage like a carpet of veins,

     throbbing,

each pulse of life a shred of agony

             paper skin so taut,

and finally tearing

              ripping,

          giving way,

 

a (hole)

           

            where a heart used to beat,

 

like a window

                                                    to a river of blue.

like two great

sheets of ice

              

            floating apart

​

      in the darkness of cold water

​

​

becoming strangers

        to each others' warm hands

​

​

now the crack

           has frozen over.

​

and the space between us

   

       has become an infinity

all these paper people

around me

​

they have never been

                  where i have been,

​

and so they will never know

         

        what it feels like to

​

              (                                    ).

 

all these paper people

​

living their plastic lives

                     around me, i

​

just want to melt them all

i am a ship.

a lonely vessel

amidst this wreckage.

i am a pile of

self-deconstructing rubble

that burns like

a stark flame

on the dark horizon.

i am a tower

on the brink of collapse;

cracks in my demeanour,

like the wrinkles on

the hand that writes this.

and i fear

that all that will be

left of me

be carnage,

incomprehensible rage,

and a page-

ful of uttered nonsense.

 

i am a ship.

and the seas are lonely.

and the sky is dark.

Something unnamed

was exchanged between us.

​

An amorphous

(amorous)

silence. Your

eyes –

they gave shape

to formless things.

​

My words –

all left unsaid.

i should leave now

​

silently                                  (i want you)

​

             

                more than is right

​

your gentle cloud

       

         (slowly softly incomprehensibly)

​

filling my blue sky

​

       

                 i should have stayed inside.

the tiny rivulets

            of narrow blue and

red pump through your

limbs like tireless

                        rivers of life and

           your minutely twitching fibres

are

            singing to each other

​

O what perfect symphony

                        this harmonious humming;

this melody of sharply indrawn breath,

            feet pattering on tar,

hair so gentle on the shoulders,

              and the orchestration of the rising sun.

 

this is you standing on

            the very crest of the wave at

an infinitesimal moment in time,

                        before everything comes

            crashing down to shore.

a bird that cannot fly

would rather

                                   die

   than be confined

              to an eternal prison

​

        of captivity–

​

always dreaming

                                   of skies

​

it will never reach.

i am always

shut as tight

as a fist as tight as a 

      bud

​

but the smallest of smiles

in the corners of your eyes

can so easily open me disclose me

​

like the clandestine sun of the

first rays of spring

the earliest touches the

                           touch of life

         you awaken

      in me your hand is like

            velvet on my skin i

   am reduced to a single sense 

​

    an embryonic feeling

​

​

i don't want to rise out of

      to rise up

                 out of

     this basal mess you have made me