we never feel so distant, so islanded,

as when I lie and awake watch you sleep

your face in the streetlit dark a hazy archetype,

limned closed eyes, snub nose, moued mouth

disapproving as Ozymandias

I know your lightness is inside, rekindling.

But I can’t imagine you dream of birds,

colours, stories, words, pianos

and other things you find delightful

I yearn to wake you, refind your lightness-

for this stern clone (I feel) makes me frivolous,

a brash and brazen uninitiate

in the arcane mysteries of sleep.

(written ?2019?)

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Today, when I sang you my need

it felt like I had stripped off my skin

and was offering it to you,

as a cat shows love through the killing of small creatures

and when I told you my jealousy

I felt like a bad omen,

as when prophets sacrifice

and find the liver warped and monstrous

and when I said I loved you and you didn’t turn away

I felt like I was a bar of burning iron

and you grasped me, tightly, in your thick fist

(written November 2017)

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contemplatonist

contemplatonist

thoughts on ethics, emotions and miscellaneous topics