View from Erebus

            for Zach

there’s no need to fill a silence that’s already full
    you are completely unexpected
shades trace the ruins of a once-vivid psyche
    blinded by every small hurt
yet there you are     unafraid
    an intimation of phosphorescence
    impossibly true
it’s okay not to know what to say
    except that you do
my recollection of this timeline is protean
    characterised by loss of character
somehow you’re the only thing
    i manage to hold on to

it takes hours to collect the debris
    of a melancholy mind
nothing is not the absence of feeling
but the utter negation of emotional capacity
    in a single soft motion
you tempered the fury
Nyx had left behind
and the clock keeps ticking
and I’m still here
and you’re still here
    silently holding

On This Occasion

This is my heart on a stained-glass platter. Please do not break it. I cannot afford a new one. It is torn and the glass is cracked, but it’s all I have. Take it, it is a gift.

These are my eyes in a ceramic pot. Please do not shake it. It makes me dizzy. They are cloudy and the one eye is black, but it’s all I have. Hold it, it is a gift.

These are my lips on a bed of velvet roses. Please water them often. I have spent a long time cutting off the thorns. They are small and rough around the edges, but it’s all I have. Nurture it, it is a gift.

These are my hands in a porcelain cup. Please do not drop it. I inherited it from my mother. They are weathered and the rim is chipped, but it’s all I have. Cherish it, it is a gift.

This is my spine on a black-and-white canvas. Please don’t neglect it. I have spent years trying to fix it. It is skew and the paint is peeling, but it’s all I have.

Keep it, it is a gift.

Another unfinished lustpoem

I open my eyes and there he is
like a fever dream gone nuclear
the razor sharpness in his eyes
tear the words from the back of my throat
to my lips where they dangle
incomplete like this space between us
there is a million tiny miles
I’m not sure I will ever get there
with these letters covering the curve
of my most attractive feature
then like any good hallucination he
morphs into a city of lights
and the thoughts that are stuck
in between my teeth like the fleshy part of a mango
turn saline and crystallise in place
I smile almost as bright as he does
when he draws the last bit of energy from
my heart is bigger than my hands
where I see his resting cradling
my words so they do not slip from my grasp
and end up on his tongue.