in my cupboards

skeletons hang

still mouths strangers to the songs they sang

I take them out

bone-dry and hoar

wan skulls shorn of the locks they wore

pelvic sculptures

sharp as a blade

silent shrines to hectic love they made

bereft of flesh

that lit my fire

no lithe joints but threads of thin wire

hot tears drop on

memories clean,

pick...

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At group therapy we met

Eye contact at a premium

In terms of looks she was

Bordering upon medium

Mam and brother hated

She came to stay at mine

I rarely saw her sober

She hid a stash of wine

I really tried to love her

But I didn't have a clue

She'd bled, half-formed,

Out of somewhere blue

Men she cordially hated

I was a means to an end

A saf...

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