soft bird

the soft gurgle of your belly

was replaced by a black bird

weaving her way through the

slant of your tender underside.

 

dormant

feel the earth slip through

your fingers; as you wisp

dust into ashes; strands of

fibre, sweeping the breeze

beneath; settling into years

of unfulfilled dormancy.

 

fear

fear, with his claws inch

towards the nape of my neck

and with a pin-thin slit; crime

is renewed in this theft of blood.

thanksgiving

with the aid of enough

air, water and light – seeds

sprout into a vertical lunge

in pale hope of growth; as

their stems bow and bend

towards the wind; in thanksgiving

 

vague

our thirst, remains

unrelieved; and so flung

into the bleak hollow of

vague, predestined gravity.

water tight

fist snaked around my lungs,

in the lurch of fleeting wings,

within the space, from which

a stream ebbs; into constraints,

corners bleeding; not water tight.

faith

straining myself against

the grain; I breathe my

love for you – out and watch

as it swiftly leans into a cradle,

spun by the open world; I ration

my faith, as if it’s shortage would

mean demise, and instead bear

the brunt of despair, of sacrifice.