I can’t tell you.

But last night, you entered my chest

for play, some kind of game, like ‘Operation’

and then I couldn’t sleep

I jolted – shivered – jerked – quirked,

now my eyes don’t close

and my body is a pulse,

you tiptoed across my ribcage,

leaving foot prints enlaced by landmines,

you slept on my lungs,

short wired my arteries,

you clipped the circuits of my ...

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My hands are patterned by ambitions,

these lines on my skin are wishes,

palms marked like the sky after a shooting star

and shining when they interlace with your fingers,

your skin's wrinkles and crinkles.

The crevices of our skin do not match or meet

the way coloured paths on a map synchronise and intercross,

reaching destinations.

We are separate pieces of meat

but

...

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In the creases of a crumpled T-shirt,
the darkening orbit of an orange pasta stain,
the unhinged playfulness of bright and living eyes…
the golden curls like mazes of cornfields – no way out –
The type you just want to twist around your finger –
I noticed you.
In the unrestrained laughter,
I would recall each word that tumbled from your lips
And hang on them, swing from them,
like branche...

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Your skin like the yellow brick road,

and what is it that creates that rush of blush?

I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks

to reach those autumn leaves,

that grow behind the golden weeds,

the red leaves that were never green.

No, never new, they never grew,

they stayed and they remained:

Dying, but never dead,

thriving, behind your face of ...

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We were like ‘yin and yang’,

‘Spick and Span’

- Hot pot, big pan -

slick and tanned!

The could we can -

sweet, sweet like marzipan!

The kind of love that makes you FAT,

that attracts the sniff sniffing rats.

- Rap! Trap! Rat! The blind bats! -

But I walked and you ran,

I was kicked like tin-can

then you thought you were tin-man,

cause you forgot your heart ...

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