She climbed for the view
over all of the pieces
missing in action
the sunder striking
the darkening claps applause
love’s tears, healing pause
(I’ve always loved this song. Sometimes I like to think of it in the divine, humble, merciful voice of Christ/Love).
But she really did love those tiles.
They were hand made
and placed with loving
carelessness, in haste.
She picked them for practicality
for their water proof qualities
(not thinking about salt water, of course),
and their quirkiness,
something different for everyone.
He helped her peel them off,
“it’s time for a renovation”, he said.
I had never heard this before. But it’s gorgeously sweet.
that pause of minutest minutes
between the un and the furl
the joyous window unwinding
that threatens the re and the curl.
the risk of the lean
into the breeze
minute puts out its smoke
and falls to its knees.
it’s time to go sailing
“They I said it wouldn’t happen again,
a sight not to be seen for another __ years.
So there is alcoholism in my family (in case you’re wondering, it isn’t me). And now I’m in my 40s and only just coming to terms with all of the pain. I was going to write more, but this is really hard.
there in the eye
that still figure
of colours infinite
whispering wisdom out of the calm of millenia
deafening the cacophonic cyclone
what door I came through
to get here.
the here of you.
I would board it up
with orange tape
strung like the scent of warning,