I have boundaries made of muslin cloth
Thin, flimsy only useful for wiping drool
I let everyone in and under.
Not so much a boundary as a blanket
All are welcome.
The good, the bad the meaner the better
I’ll keep you warm… ish.
And you’ll lie … with me then to me.
But as the frost sets in you will look for warmer cloth
Blankets made of stronger stuff
One that says enough is enough.
Mine stretches until it snaps.
There is a crack that knows, no repair.
The final blow before you split.
The one that determines whether you can ever look at each other the same way again
How deep is the ridge left in you?
How fractured is your spirit ?
How can you be the same when altered to your foundations?
Careful my dear.
Your silence is hammer
And it wears me down to nothingness.
When did I stop filling blank walls?
I used to stick up postcards to clutter up the gaps.
From magazines and places I longed to go.
Make the place interesting. Make me interesting.
Blue tack clinging to the backs of pretty flowers, mounds of spices
Trying so hard to hold it together
Color the beige out.
When did I stop liking Klimpt posters ?
” So studenty” that’s what I say now.
There was a time when that kiss was everything I wanted to be.
When Dali’s long legged creatures and melting clocks made me feel something more than a clean wall ever could.
A time when incense welcomed you at my door and we ate on the floor.
Now it’s clean lines and neat coffee tables.
Cream leather couches and women who click when they walk.
I used to go barefoot.
Drink wine while I cooked. Fall asleep on the sofa.
Clean lines. No clutter. I should feel free.
But beige just isn’t me.
Your glycerin love washes over me
I’m in a lather
A right palava
Soaked to the bone with your sudsy desire
Wet but no fire.
I’m bubbling at the skin
Living in soapy sin.
You slip and slide
Giving me hope
Soap on a rope
But with every rub and scrub
Every wallow and soak
Oh silken longing
You wove your way between us
And the heat we felt was like no other
Thick and unctuous.
Killing us kindly.
We followed it to hell and
Now we spin in sulfurous steam
Flayed and splayed.
A fire that will never turn to cinder
Never return to sender.
The worst thing is that I had begun to dream again
Pictured a life where things might go well
Now I’m back to hell.
Ground zero once more.
Maybe that’s why I’m sore.
Filled with envy for those of you who just
‘Get along with it’.
Oh and I do …sometimes.
But then the black comes in and pushes me down
And I run each time.
I try. I try. I quit.
I can’t seem to go through the tunnel.
Can’t seem to reach the light
No matter how hard I fight.
Some of us will always be at the tunnel door
While you run forward.. gaining more.
I fought this grey with every inch of my pink scarf
With every morsel of my orange bag
I tried to push through opaque
Waft past the fog
But I was outnumbered by endless cloud.
It clogged the soul of me
Dampened down any colour you might see
I faded into the mist