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Ruins.

They lie dormant

in the hollows of this dusty soul.

Quiet

yet committed to vengeance upon the sun’s leave.

Serpent tongues hiss

Eyes sleep

and creatures

wake.

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Valentine’s

Hallmark has me stuck

The fizz of us bubbling

on folded paper.

Drawn up.

Aye, she said.

Aye. Am fine, honest.

Fine. Like a clear, English morning come the month of May?

Och, said she.

Like a Picasso.

Dawn chorus

I’ve got

wrestless hands and itchy feet

Sticky mind at times

when the days gone by

decide to wander on down through the

halls that we frequented so many times before

when we couldn’t get to sleep.

Lying here, wondering if you ever hear them creep?

I know that I do.

Certainly, I do.

Settle down, these twilight hours

bewitch the town that lies outside

these blissfully, mundane four walls

Always the same, old

cobbled town, of course

That never goes to sleep

The key

This old town, the shoes upon my feet

This food, these clothes, this seat

The blood in my veins

and the air I breathe

All

Absolutely minor

when you’re not in reach.

The Essence.

The world has lights that make
you want to breathe in
and clean up your dusty soul

Blinding.

Finding constellations, learning
ways to read them, resisting temptations to burn them in a heap
on the front lawn

like so very, many times before.

Now you’re feeding your heart a three course dinner
Winning – you’re a winner and smiling proper, too

Unusual for you but I think I like it

Bottle some up for me.

Untitled 

I see hope is radiating 

from your strong, highlighted cheekbones

Mirroring your fears like souvenirs

and all the strength that you broke

When you started mending nicely

And folk said you looked gamely, save the eyes 

That seep your secrets

What to’morra brings 

I’ll let you know a secret 

Wrap it up and keep it

It still bleeds deep within

You’ve got that look that could still a thousand heartbeats 

But you hear a banging in your ear

Losing more, without me

Don’t you see?

I’m your plastic millionaire