Lovers of Valdaro

4 May 2016

You are poetry
Shattered skull, fingers brushed against jaw-bone
legs tangle-gether
rhythmic bone bone bone
crippled in
piling calcium crush.

Your rhyming poses –
arched backs, stacked femurs
your ribs are beat.
You’d clatter if you could move.

Baltimore
I see myself in its decay
recognise time passing outside my body.

Collapsing roof
blown out windows
vines run me over
I am suffocated. Reclaimed.

I am the big-hit search term
‘ruin porn’.
I am a bridge built but never used,
an overpass to nowhere.

But you, lovers.
You are swept away on nothing
like words from mouths,
like been-said, like breath.

My body is abandonment, but
you are poetry.
Your rhyming poses
swept away by six thousand years of
air.

My wish for erasure
stands solid among
the rubble.

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