Evacuation

Hosing gutters
Filling sinks
Watching news
While packing
When it starts
The tiny hands
Squeezing my heart
The distant voices
Pulling my focus

How can I miss you?
You were never even here
How can I protect you?
You were never more than a hope
How can I recreate you?
You were always more than I dared

And so I continue
Collecting photographs 
Which show only your absence
Folding outfits 
For me alone
And yet your screams deafen me
As the smoke engulfs the valley
And I don't look back
As the flames race away
Illuminating the hilltop

Midnight

Sneaky intoxication
Called love
Lingers on my limbs
Like eau de cologne
Heady scents
Of serendipitous joy
And silent smiles
Stay with me
Stubborn as I am
Restless as you are
And let us be delighted
Dancing through midnight's
Stardust showers

Cowboy

Lonely and far from home
I stumbled into a dive bar
And under his spell
He had that strut
Complete with cowboy boots
And sandalwood cologne
Clumsily dancing to Dave Graney
We made no conversation
Only promises
With winestained kisses
And brave fingers
Dawn gifted us with bloodshot eyes
And silence
But for the traffic
Lonely and far from home
I stumbled into a cab
And under the overpass

Reflection

More than the sum of her parts
A reflection of legacies
Endowed with secrets
Matriarchal and encrypted

She stands bereft of memories
Awaiting sorrow's debt collector
An annual fee
Payable by blood, tears, or myths

Electric Lady

My dearest boy asked me
What's it like then?
Living with this thing
This thing you call synaesthesia
I reluctantly relented
And I told him
Where he hears augmented fifths
I see pastels in neon
Where he sees lightning flashes
I taste cloves in melon
When he takes acid
I chuckle
Suddenly aware that
People part with their paycheques
For the chance to experience
My existence
I trip for free
And I never come down
From this freakout
So you can ask me
What colour's my voice?
You can ask me
What flavour's my shirt?
Just don't ask me
To explain yet again
That no, I can't control it
And no, I can't switch it off
This is a full time gig
Living in the kaleidescopic spice market of synaesthesia

Love Letter

I am too long without your affections, and given to weeping. I find no pleasure in dining, nor drinking, nor smoking. I want only your honeyed voice and calloused hands to sustain me. I am yours and will not waver. I count the days until we meet again, and sleep evades me. Comfort is lounging at your feet. I long for Sunday, my darling, when I will be once again in your embrace.

Hemingway

Trapped by wanderlust
Freed by words
Beard burning
White upon tanned
Skin scarred 
Ever searching 
For your lost nurse
Your pure first love
Now we feed 
Upon glances of
Your memories
Caught fading
In dusty mirrors