Stars stardust………shells

From Ultramarine


Dark side of the moon


we’ve laid our flesh

side by side

on this palette of life.



The lilies are dropping leaf by leaf, pollen rubbing umber streaks on the white of my shirt, dust on my Chinese chest; I’m being whispered secrets from the dead leaves in my garden, from the blistering cold that sends me running back inside myself for warmth. Night brings random terrors which the day flushes away, garden is a dead sea of twigs and driftwood I move on head down as year turns it’s turmoil into year.



She sits on midnight buses following trails across the city, she’s wrapped in blood red shawl, notices nothing. One small laced boot protrudes from enveloping skirt, cold carves blue veins on iced skin.  He runs an empty beach at midnight mind returning and returning to the same small space that’s lit up in his mind.  A kiss in drenching rain, a face open like the light, a grown woman curled as a child upon his knee.  His eyes see nothing of the pale horizon sleep has left him, ahead stretch miles and miles of empty life.  His fingers ache from tearing reams of paper, lines of words are blurred beneath his tear filled eyes, but it’s not his demands, her words, it’s the things they’ve never said, the language lost between the lines that causes tragedy.




Knives indented

twist and turn

in fresh flesh

leaving drops

of bright red blood

glowing droplets of infinity.



“ ….all relationships exist within an individual’s experience……”


He runs the empty beach to find, stars, stardust, shells, sand through his fingers, like her hair, closed footprints washed by the tide, has searched a million years to lie beside her only to give up from pride.  He follows footprints as they disappear under the swell of encroaching tide; his pounding heart is tightly shut within his perfect chest, muscles tight from toning day by day , he takes a breath it comes in sobs.



Seagulls fly

flattened against

offshore wind

wheel and climb

to hover.


Somewhere lost in time and place she changes pace and follows footprints barely visible beneath the sand duned wind, and their roaming is orchestrated by the musical whim of an unseen conductor.






Sky cracks with inertia

rain flecks roofs

crows spin and squabble

over dead carcass

of the year.


All that’s left is laughter.



I walk the length of Park lit by fairy lights; trees stand out stark stubbled brown against the traffic and hum of cruising taxis.  The bar’s awash with fresh faced girls, hair waxed men stare, the music blares its God forsaken din.  I am the Empress of entrances, could be taken for a waitress, hand you my hand-outs, circulate with the smoke, there is no anticipation.








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