Jul 232015
 

many years ago
in my bedroom high above
a two bed flat in once had sat
a since departed love

you entered, singing bird
light heart and fullsome future hope then stirred
to trap in one swift glance and make a match
i longed for one small contact patch
a hand, an eye or more
and all received by chance
and nothing more

skidding now
now at the end of things
at the end, the end of this
i watch your sleeping back,
i watch your sleeping lying sleeping back,
imagining your pleasure,
dreaming of your pleasure,
my eyes they crystallize
and all resolve diffracts

tenuous i stretch a hand’s soft back,
tenuous i float in
with our history at hand,
tenuous i float in
with our every fumbled fuck,
with our love we sung until we sucked,
with our love that suckled children,
with all our to and froing with our love we gave them life
in spite of us they live for ever

and after all of this
and after all of this you still retract
from nothing as so simple
from nothing as so pure
as knuckles resting on a contact patch
a contact patch upon your back
the back that is all you will reflect
a patch above the patch that still refracts
into a shattered vision

a vision when you loved
a vision of your lips, your hips and mouth
a vision of you riding, high above
a vision of your song to me
soft memories you retract
all softness you retract
I retract
I retract
I retract

 

Mar 032015
 

phong2every age is a woomph of aging
and every year that passes, woomphing slowly further down
’til on our knees we woomph unto the floor
and into the black hole of our phong