burnt opals

liquid sapphire drips away into
a blood red ruby
bevelled burning opal
(dips and furrows darkened
by the opaque night)
sneaking down to meet
jagged jutting topaz
rays tumbling over each other
to press fleeting, shy kisses
burning opals
illuminated.

and liquid sapphire drips away
                                              away
                                                      away
                                                                                                  away
as blood red ruby
floods the sky.

meteorite

i used to wonder about the stars and i dreamt that an angel told me the pagan gods of old, once angels, had compressed themselves into tiny beads and weary and tired, threaded themselves across the night's blanket, trailing feet and galaxies across the skies, looking for heaven - for home - once again.

there's a meteor shower, the night you were born,
countless shooting stars f
                                      a
                                        l f
                                          l a

                                              l

                                                l

                                                  i

                                                    n f

                                                      g e

                                                               l

                                                                         l to the earth,

pinpricks of light unfurling into tall, forgotten goddesses, all ice-cut beauty, flaxen hair and diamond-cut smiles, and they hunt for you, feet flying over the rough ground swiftly, teeth bared and voices crying out in a cacophony of harsh cries and they're hunting, hunting for you and the call of your soul is mesmerising.

seventeen years later,
they climb their way
back to the stars, weeping
like harpies as a bundle of
blotchy pink skin, tousled black
hair and henna eyes are born
in the south, because they'll
have no chance to devour
your soul, not anymore.

it's not rocket science

i think of you more than i probably should but,
i get blown  a w a y  every single time that i think about,
how someone out there has made you for me;
that there is, literally, sugars, sugars, sugars, an endless litany of them,
the random sequence of sugary bases in every single helical twist of your dna,
shared by no other being in the whole fucking universe,
mirroring your teasing tones and confused smile that i so adore,
gave you those p-p-perfect eyes, and hair and skin and voice and mind,
someone out there built you for me.


(how could i not believe in God?
 how could i ever not want you, foolish, foolish man?)

possibly

you made your defences from all the leftover bitterness of her supernova-love,
and me? i break you down, break down walls made from the bright light,
reflected in your smiles
with nothing, really,
because loving
you is the
easiest
thing
.

And burn the long-lived phoenix, in her blood

the day i met you, i was reborn,

and the day i met you, i died.

this is more than

never enough.

ancient fossils

you're a lazy saturday afternoon,
with a good book,
as i trace the curve of your hip

it is written in our bones;
iheshe amiswillbe for youherhim.