Lightfast interior

No black and white photograph

Just two of earth’s own.


Score pacts through red clay

Fingertip wavy ink trails

Gathering the prey.


Blood’s sudden distance

In the need for possession

Your disgust haunts me.



Leaves an absence of colour

Still unfastened day.


Fish, bird, skin held taut

Language, tribe, vast stretch of land

Between you and I.

Roast beef

Cooked and relaxed
Film a star. A world, aching with stars.
Our head sound, sound and weight.
Echo of flush, flushed, pulled and aching, an ache of blood. Pulled and
Aching let it let. Let it ache. Bloody flush of red, an ache, a spasm, a pain.
Pierced red. A menstrual ache, a shock
In the centre, a piece of ache, a centre piece, carved. Blood flow on the board.
Wooden board stained pink. Blame the lift and flow, the centre hold, the glut of grow and show. The tender on the cloth with love. The afterglow. The wood would savour, borrow, sow, the blood and the flow.  The wooden savour, the saviour, savoir, the red most tenderness, the melt and die.
The die and melt of red, the red melt, the lie, the red, the saviour and the savour, and the stain, the red and feel the ache and pain.

Birth of Words

I witnessed a birth of words

as he read aloud

deep bloody wounds

gaping and closing

mouth like womb

lost in that moment

meaning was numb

drowned drum of hypnotic sound

heavy and urgent the words poured

shattered and proud

I yearned to cradle them in my own mouth.

a poem I wrote last year and decided to rewrite