People have so many selves
they shuffle them round like cards in a deck.
She’ll say ‘pick a card, any card’
and you’ll take a chance, make a bet,
try to get her Queen of Hearts.
But its hidden too well,
you end up with the joker instead,
and by then its too late.
The black souled jack waits grinning.
He’s already dug your grave with his spade.
Summer has gone
the stunted days darken into
round silver moons
the soup spoon kisses
our mouths when we’re apart.
Stomachs full
my softness circles yours
dipping into you as we lie in bed
round as spoons
I
She’s lost her centre again.
A broken mirror, she fragments out,
a galaxy throwing out its arms
unravelling stars from lips and hair
Feathering the air with light,
The whole world inside its dark broken heart.
II
The smashed mirror sent out a galaxy of glass,
reflecting your face from its broken mess.
My fingers are drawn towards the fractured
shards of your eyes, your lip’s sharpened edge.
No less beautiful fragmented.
