A F F E C T I O N

I could have loved you for the eternity of eternities; Aristotle’s perfect round galaxy,
the moon shine from a silver orb surrounded by pockets of fire, a flicker in the universe
a burnt out hydrogen husk; it is not a romantic piece, this echoes longing for something unreal,
not fraught with the cinders and warmth of living, living is mostly warm
apart from that time where you stood in the cold with icicles instead of mucus and
maybe I offered you a tissue or a blanket; maybe it wasn’t the bus stop and it was the floor

there was a dream that a young girl with ember coloured hair had
where the colours reversed and wailed , leading to the sea bank,
where rotten mermaid carcasses lay, killed by the death of legends long gone
the rest is a white hole that slowly grows, as if it is being picked at
like the scab from a cigarette burn that is picked at constantly by idle fingers
should have given it to the millionaire in Rio, “tiene una luz”; let me bless you with my sickness

didn’t want to address the cracked leaves and bare trees
I confess I have lost track of time and intention, forgive me if you can
talk, open my mouth and cruel, disorientated, desperate words come out
sewn up lips, clenched fists and an unknown mark that was left either
on skin, on bone, on muscle or worst, on mind.