to be cherished
by a man
is something of an accomplishment for me.

i'm sick of seeing beauty i cannot grasp.

unable to run away from the awful side of humanity.
my feelings are sacred while the world is not.

i see you on the windiest sailing days
waving tree flags to the lost & abandoned.
free to love. naked and naive. on God's lawn.
barefeet with a beer in your hand, vaguely aware of the sublime poverty
of these times.
and i realised we do not have the petty luxury to count joys,
there are numbers and accounts now more intangible than
the ticking bombs in your ribs.

but do not think for a second that we are victims at all.

when you come about disappearing endless
ashamed of what compelled you to be
we are not forests that hide away
we are notes that feel
sometimes you are a little blind like me.
awkward and deformed, as we tie our tongues together.

and it was afternoon. a waning sun crept along wooden window frames
but i was moved
by the reverence
of your guitar.
must have felt like dying
as strings trembled with age & jupiter's climate
melted into your being, all we know
that is capable, and moments where
i breathed across your soul. & exhaled your fire.
i could never be sadder, or
lovelier
than starring in your mahogany concert.

in a dream we gave ourselves just as the sky faded to dusty fascination,
atop a picnic table, watching dolphins spit saphhires,
while a trumpet rose from the sea to hang in the sky. though,
it only blew
wet regret.
and i defined the lonely romance inside that polished, thrumming
bell.
.then
i always knew,
i'm not that prize at the end of the road.
and you would never stray too far from those a dozen pretty roses.
i wish i could write you an epiphany, some form of moral.
to ground the uncertainties in the everyday.
can it last and last and last.
.can it start.
can we be fateless. unidentifiably beautiful.

do not unravel me, for i'm not past my grief.
& not even close to understanding the nowhere world of your room,
the meaningless reasons for the other women.
you can't presuppose the ones who walk.
or know when that switch in your head is to
blow up somebody's life.

.lay down your armour.
let's make crowning love
against the fine line of our pressed hearts. as unlikely virgins.

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