#under ice

always, I am carried

here while sleeping.

green vines tumble

from a ceiling latticed

in smoky shades.

an orchid’s vase picks

the sun’s pockets,

her diamonds scatter

over pastel tables.

beyond the window

are alder branches,

peace is the colour

of woodland fawns.

projected on the far wall

is a worn-out film reel.

my favourite scene

in scratched infinity.

the ocean rocks against

a velvet, spilled sugar sky.

she and I silhouetted

in the carnival lights.

her head on my shoulder.

‘sweetheart’ spilling from

a jaw borrowing the stars.

the ferris wheel cart

swayed by stubborn

November gales but

golden strands laid

behind her wrists &

we were wrapped in

August-soaked heat.

if I could touch

eternity,

if a second could

be everlasting

I would have stayed

here, with her, forever.

but one day I watched

as the sun came apart.

ii

maybe this never

ending eclipse grew

the shape of you.

always, you trespass here.

moonlight across your lips,

those winter-bitten palms.

are fragments of my skin still

buried beneath your nails?

frost’s white lace creeps

over the orchid’s petals.

and I am back

at that night.

pinned, like butterfly

to cutting board

your razor carving

‘almost’ between

my shoulder blades

because you’re an artist’s

abandoned brushstrokes.

after, sobbing into

sanguine sheets.

your face, blurred

in diamond light.

I was under ice,

carried in a current

of silver ribbon.

loving you was a fatal footstep

on the river at winter’s dawn.

iii

cold tea spilled

over tabletops.

disaster written

on porcelain.

and my heart was

not cut out for this.

to sit, fragile

in your hands.

every beat,

a wing flutter.

my chest, a cage

sawed at, gaping.

I am glass birds

flying back to you.

you’re a head full

of wasted copper.

nostalgic for

happiness.

your voice is a glacier,

every word a rose thorn.

there’s a softness

at your throat

that could end this.

iv

I filled the lines of

peace with indigo

until your hands

stained my thighs

like the evening sky.

now somewhere

there is a forest

cloaking the

bones of the girl

I once was.

v

somedays my reflection

is nothing but puckered silver

spelling out your name.

but one day you’ll fall from

me like the rain of summer.

and I will bind our memory,

pulling salt from the

oceans I have cried for you.

Tenderness does sweep

across me like

a bruise & sea — I’m

—

sucked far beneath

the dull agony — no more

blessed than hiding

—

under ice, it’s still without

sufficient room to

under ice tekeli-li tekeli-li

and this is not what you think

our ship's her bow has broken threw

we still sing tekeli-li tekeli-li

and this is not what you think

{ drawning, wandering, drawning }

the wavering blue colde dun above me

remembered echoes of tekeli-li tekeli-li

we'll be your new pennie dredful