Friday, July 29, 2011


Flat and silver
Your tongue still pierces me
Like no other.
Toes made of clay
Finger tips dead from years
Of staying away.
Leave that box girl
Walk out.
It’s been 19 months already
19 thousand years may be
The lock has fallen off
On its own accord
But still inside you stay
Sounds of a whip past
And your clay feet stay
The box is half rotten
And you still stay rooted
To that sweet spot
And I have memories of your tongue
And the clefts and the nooks in your body
Wet me still, Alexandra.
I have wandered 19 days
Or 19 centuries may be
And I called out your name
Once I had almost smelt you out
But a cover of lavender and sorrow
And bundles of guilt
Confounded me and I lost the trail.
But the lock has fallen away girl
And I wait, with the table set
With my skin and nails and hair
The ground beneath still remembers
Your toe-ring and your quick gait.
Walk away Alexandra, and come home.
The gates are open and
the blood hounds are long gone.
Follow my scent of longing and love
And come to roost Alexandra.
And if you want I will prepare you
A new cage and hang it in the porch
And come and sing for me
And your voice still rings in my year
And I wake up on a lone still bed,
Flat and silver, your tongue….