the gaping maw of us apart cannot be
filled by petty sunlight or sorrowful birdsong.
my heart is ripped away from the
fruit tree of my body and sent scattered into the wind
to seek you out.
you become my true north.
you in my mothers old t-shirt, both of us knowing we come from a place of wretched unwantedness, a graveyard of a family home.
you dye my hair pink and i love you.
us pulling like magnets or gas giants
sucked into each others gravity.
true north means my hands find yours in the dark.











