when the clapper strikes the bell
can you not feel me inside your pain
or am the ghost that wrinkles life
a cockle beneath your shell.
Then you should have looked a little longer
and felt the baying moon
you should have watched the mirror
and seen the shadows dance
as each creak felt the groan.
Tell me -
did you feel the stretch of burning walls
and the touch of caressing tongues
did you feel the heat of passion
or the burning of your lungs.
Did you wake with me at half past three
to see the window, lonely by the sill
watching lifeless minds walk-by
as I deconstructed your complexities
and kissed you then – free of will.
Dance with me
forget the dirty window
or the smudges on the wall
footprints on the ceiling
we knew the room beneath the bed
was going to be too small.
Tangle me in this tangled life
until you comprehend my will
then splash me with your eyelids
and I’ll pour you into me
and drink you until I’m full.