“your clavicle is the horizon
I always swim towards...
Ink seeps down, again,
Scratches, reflections, soap dust...
You've been quiet lately,
and I always know why...
colliding ideologies
contradict the two of us...
I always dreamed that
in the mountains, I would...
I would fly along with sparrows,
mirror the sharp turns of the fish...
A quick one stop solution
with life's longevity to pay...
You learnt to turn your fingertips
into curves of light...
I’ve grown tired of your memory
the way it finds me...
On Earth I wander as a wisp
a vapour trailing in the air...
When that scrawny figure knocks at your door.
Do you shirk to hide beneath the floor...
Until there’s nothing
more to love...