hello.

I remember best of all
that which has been before. happened before you came
here because in another time
you and I leant into each other, your perfectly shaped head
fit into my hands. a look across a table and i know
you watch the whites of my eyes.
my backward turned head nervous edgy looking turning yearning learning so much
about my insides
the hypocrisy that crumbles insides like
rust and then you are like cellotape tearing away, giving way. a call from a nose, across oceans and toes.

my toes are the colour of my skin now.

then i think of you, wait for your absence to hit me like a punch to the stomach, wind evacuated from my my solar plexus, chakra centre kundalini centre but that's your behind is itnot?

tell me more about what you think of?

what do you do with your own flesh andblood leave? love hate in fearful disdain? bewildered exhaustion?


I like tables, I like it when you tap my head. I like being melancholy, and the man in
striped pyjamas who made me think of you and me.