IRL Love Letters

This nook, this tree, this borrowed moonshine, oh-

Swim with me,

Upside down isn't much of a disguise/So colour me surprised/To find you hanging there/As if casually, as if/I should have known./It's a bittersweet kind of comfort/That I'm never far away from/Something that I know/Even if I want to be./If I go swimming, you're lurking/In the deep cool waters/Your finger tips in every brush of seaweed./When I can't sleep, you're hanging in the sky./And when I slip down/To the underworld, I'm sure/You'll follow me there too./It's a safety net, maybe/Though I want to be free/To bake in the dirt alone./You're a protector, I get it/Your sword at your belt/But your a hunter too/And what's a predator to do without any prey?

Come September, The hours of our lives Grow beautiful and golden. The last rays of summer stretch out Across the bucolic hills I once claimed as my own. But I don't live there any more. We don't walk there any more. The calendar is ticking over, And given the hour, You could try a little harder. It isn't winter yet.

This backyard smoke is too thick, it's too sweet, I can't breath, my eyes sting, I feel sick, and I think I might be getting old 'cause I just want to go home. You shouldn't burn plastic, it's toxic.

I've got my blinkers buckled tight With the comfort of darkness And I'm trying to pretend that I'm not thinking about you. But I'm a bad liar. A flicker of white and blue Catches me in the ribs. The same ribs that you stroked One July. The sun reminds me of you, The rain reminds me of you, And so do storms and the wind. I'll always blame the weather Instead of myself. That flicker, real or imagined, Is all I need to Render this business unfinished, To reignite that electric summer When my fingers graced such magic, And my feet were never cold.

If you saw into a human body, It would smoke like kindling Because skeletons are dry. >> I am a tinderbox, and You are a flint, A match, We are the wildfire That rushes and ruins, That engulfs, Consumes. >> My marrow pops and Spits with every kiss Until the air is thick with soot And we choke On the flames that Lick at my ankles. >> My bones are coals Of memories and detritus. Snap off a piece, For carbon dating. Watch for fossils, Crumbling. I am ready to burn.

Tensed jaw, My throat so dry It cracks. My lips Chap. I bite the skin With my teeth and Pull, drawing blood. I enjoy, secretly, The sting. It skitters down to my knuckles And I brace. * My eyes jump, Stinging, and not Comfortable on you. Trying to lift cheeks of lead So heavy, too heavy For the weak grin I Cannot fully muster.

It's June now and I've had enough of being brave. I have had enough of being afraid. Thunder rumbled through the thick afternoon, And it rained something primal, drops bouncing Off the road, off the windscreen, The wiper blades going ten to the dozen As my mother drove me to town. It's like I'm a teenager again, regressing, Though I become more like her with every season. The air is colder now, And I'm drinking alone At the kitchen table with the door open Because I like the way the ground smells. I miss the heady air, close, and the Golden light before the storm. I felt like I could disappear then, Into the haze, with the may flies. The steam is drying from the mirror, I can no longer blend into this summer. The shadows rise, And you're still not here.

It has rained every day since I came home. I'm trying not to be too much of a writer about it, but with an upturned smile I'll say it feels apt. The sky glows bright white, It hurts my eyes to look at it. I'm home but I'm not Home, I don't think I know yet how to get there.

I was away from myself for a while, I suppose. In Hawaii where it's still yesterday, I wish, I wish, with the chance To try the time again. I used to say that running away worked But that was when my problems could be solved In the arms and legs of other people. Right around the world and the only thing I can't escape Is myself.

I went looking for love. I got lost on the way. Took the wrong fork in the road, maybe. Telling myself it's the scenic route; living and loving without a map, off the track, and devoting myself to the views.

Lack of imagination Has never been my problem. Clenching my jaw at the passing of time. "Bruxism," you said. "Naming the problem means you can solve it." As if knowledge alone will stop me Gnawing at the inside of my cheeks While I'm sleeping. Waking up with my teeth Aching in my gums, Heavy eyes crusted shut, The rest of me panicking, chasing, scrabbling Headlong after real life.

Longing for the days of fresh peaches,

It's the kind of weather that looks like It's been painted onto the sky, Flour mixed with grey acrylic For sludgy clouds You could wear like a cape. I'd swish, swish, swish, And leave a misty trail Behind me, and hope it didn't freeze. The sun goes down, Layers and layers of Light from life fading, Darker, more tactile. Punching out the stars, Smudging in a Milky Way. Wrapping myself in a dress Made from the night.

When we arrived, It didn't look like it does On the internet, or In our memories. Smaller, busier. The colours off, And the sun not shining. Littered with cairns, Like inuksuit, But meaningless. People trying to stamp Themselves onto landscapes, Making a waterfall All about them, 'I was here, I was here.' We skimmed stones Across the murky river, Hitting the braiding currents Making our own rainbows With the spray. That's what makes me feel Like I'm here; We're here.

It makes sense that We like the ideas of people more Than we like the reality of them. We're half-formed things. Wrestling with it all. Just, all of it. Everything, like, I don't know. It's too bright, too messy, too much. Are we growing up, Or standing in the glare Of the direct sun, Cauterising The parts of ourselves that Others find hard to hold?