Agitation of hands. Strength of words.

Well actually, she never really left.
Thank goodness for that.

Never trust a woman
who’ll wait for you in the rain.
All she wants
is for you to grow
and learn to hate.
Though her breath be minty fresh
you’ll soon know the disquiet
in your soul, as the love grows
in your chest and you will go
pouncing from room to dark room
like some deranged cat
calling her name
to the high heavens
and the night sky.

Demetrius,
home of the genocide,
home of its children.

I walked a mile
of broken glass
with men in white trilbies
and 3 piece suits
of skin.

The sky was red
and the moon hid his face
among clouds of blood
and his own guilty tears.

I would like to express my disbelief and sorrow
at the deletion of the blog Good At Getting Better
by the extremely talented and valuable ‘krkbaker’.

Kim,
I don’t know what made you delete it,
against the advice of all,
but I wish you all the best.

I feel like i have lost a dear friend…..

When you’re lying
alone in bed
at night,
are you thinking about
you?

No?

Because
I am.

And I’m thinking about
hair on pillows
and singing in the bath.
I’m thinking of lip marks
left on glasses and about
our toothbrushes together
in a glass, bristles
wet and touching.

And I’m thinking about house prices
and shared investment.
I’m thinking about
holding your hand at my father’s funeral.
How, when you’re away
I’ll miss you,
and how I’ll make a fuss
about lending you my clothes.

I’m thinking
how, right now,
I want to be the person
that you keep clean for
and the future
in your gentle charms.

Find your father
and lay him down
and breath upon his
face and hands.

Then turn
and with your eyes
scan to the edge
of land and sky,

of field and child
and dry riverbeds
and the screeching of
a thousand heads.

Then lie yourself
upon the ground
and feel the cool
expanse of stone

This is your resting
place, your tomb.
Encased in walls of
earthen tears and bone.

—————————
This came from a Simply Snickers prompt

With all the world
buzzing and twirling around
beneath a complacent sky
while I lie,
summer skinned,
the cool breeze
blowing gently
on my stubborn nipples.

Free them
Bleed them
Scream then

And from cupped hands,
soaked in children’s tears,
Suck the salt
from the bones
as white as the apron
of a sterile womb
with nothing to clean.

Leaping back
from the edge
in a gentle, enviable way.
As you had in the beginning,
leaping forward
into life
with a smile and a wink.
But now
that I look more closely
it seems more that you
lean, not leap.

Yes.
Leaning.
Resting on the laurels of your years.
Settling back into
the space between space
with a sigh
and a slight gasp.
But not falling.
No,
not falling.

The night sky
is a gentle orange
like our love
seeping into one another
and turning over
just like you turn
and prop yourself up
on your perfect elbow
in the orange morning.