Henry Said

Henry says

I can't go round
kissing rain drops

But he gets like that

all
pursed lips
his stern fingers wrapped
around a biro
as he scribbles bits of me down
on a oversize note pad

I am watching messages
wing in through the
partly open window
of his office

Folded yellow
paper
with words in bold print
scrawled all over
chittering birds of words
coming
closer


But I can look away
Henry told me
I can look away



It's hard
to listen

listening
to his glistening
mouth
the words plop
and patter
dulcet tones
wash and crush
and wind time
backwards
old grandfather clocks
large hands
spinning fast
in retreat

I nod where I can
smile if I think
it'll be accepted
and look interested
sometimes

he really likes that

if I look like
I am taking it in

Each day is a beginning
Henry says

I'm not sure if a smile will
work for this one
so I nod

Later,
Henry has
given me
this weeks spell
to take to the drug store
and suggested
we are making progress

I am outside
and it's starting to rain
and I promise the sky
no tongues this time

just lips

Yeah Right

The only thing
between me and eternity
is the thread of words
we trade

I found solace
in a red wine
and the endless
line of faces
fading behind my smile

We danced
chanced upon salvation
purely by accident
a low rent decision
stalling the division
between
here
and the melted wax
of a candle
long past a wicks
assurances.

I have given all
and nothing at all
in equal parts
a feathered dart
leaping to the
song of your heart

See me
in all my daggers strike
a spike of sweet pain
and soft refrains
falling in a poor rain's
patter
to drift and patter
against the smeared window sill

I can only hold this sensation
for a moment
for the ghosts
and hosts of dissemination
are stammering
unable to articulate
a past
a line cast into gray sea scapes
where the difference betwixt sky
and sea is a blurred memory

We are dissolution
a random confusion
of emotional connection
and soul infection
the dissection
left to later times
uncrossed lines
best left smeared
and feared to be touched upon.

I have seen you
naked
dancing
wheeling in the sky
a blaze of ochre
searing the suns soft design
refuting
articulation
bringing forth disputation
winging
a soulless gull
to blend and diffuse
into the things
we use
on any given Sunday
to get through
and quietly say

we are ok...


I bow my head
open my mouth
and receive
all the things you said

I absorb you

to create me