Lineage

the before me now your after

your yet to be children’s history

 

i the centre of the world trace my amputee blood

as a stone dropped too close to the bank

 

each wave once centre dissipating

the future pushing back

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Lineage

Nothing

give me your hands your feet your neck
bend over

i bend desire my chains my rope my absolution
their implication of duress

for one moment the world lies invisible
its constraints handcuffed to the freedom of suffering

and perhaps for the first time
i begin to think of nothing

Nothing

Cadair Idris

The peaks
puncturing clouds scatter them
like vanquished foes from fields of long-forgotten battles

and sunlight licks the tarn to silver
its shimmered trace ringed in lips
as mouths cusp tongues to kiss

I would like to freeze this moment
as the grass clad in ice on the ridge clasps
the moment it finally froze

the valleys charting simple steps to seamless arched horizons
a fingertip away each distant ridge its sweet dessert
a tempting dish hands steer across the table to

here cloth holds farms as breadcrumbs
in the eyes’s vast circle its bandage winding wounds of man
dogs beneath the kitchen table

for this to always be is wanting no more
happiness a day’s short knife above the breast
life stilled in a moment of perfection

Cadair Idris

Untitled movement in water

You came through the window
Bringing your flood with you
And drenched me with desire

Nightly you came
let me fill you with words
A slow hand eased in your water

By day you turned me into sea
Impatient in my unfurling
Treading time at your river mouth

Then time slowed
Trickled
Stopped

And you find me here, muddied
Straining words, spitting silt
In fossils spelling sorry

Untitled movement in water