New Town

By | 18 June 2017

in re new place
we, facing (one) another
the sound of her
is almost

between us:
a foot of hair grown and lost
the skin of two summers
so much rhythm still crashing
from the wars

never thought day
and that stumbled
resplendent (f)light
could hinge how it did

prisms making purpose
of shattered shapes
memory greying in light

hover text bubbles
so it doesn’t need to be said:
didn’t want it like this
til I need it like this
til entangle can unmake
leaves in red hair dawn from veranda
coal train nights
so much
it didn’t need to be
forever we count

for the benefit of the other,
we should have warned
but good evening
come in
the shade we pull down
the sun
soft shadows
swallow homes we’ll never live in
still blind.

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