hold that thought

he said it was like his
fingers were filled with
electricity

he put his hand on my skin
& the street emptied.

there were words written
somewhere
but all we could see was light.

the muscles down my spine
were twitching slightly

right where you drew
a line of sound.

coming up for air

there was nothing

you used a camera

things that pull apart
pulling together again

the way music
moves moments together

an endless tracking shot
of the city in which you were born

you used a camera
to x-ray your mind

things that pull together
pulling apart again

i wanted this place

i wanted this place to be a repository
for all the moments that
would not quite stack up in my mind-

the kind of memories that stand together
like newly introduced strangers
shuffling with softly pocketed hands.

***

the things we saw

forming

on our flesh that morning

***

traveling out
of a town we did not yet comprehend
green belt horizons
flying past like spokes on a bike:

we knew then
that the worst was yet to come.

a new economy

something that comes
together
like colour

your words forming & un-forming

in the air: subtitles
on an empty screen.

a new economy exists

of images that will never
match with words.

rainsong

that whole day
we had spent
praying for rain.

we were not interested
in regular rain,

we wanted the kind of rain
that evaporates
even as it is forming,

the kind of rain
that never reaches
the earth’s surface,

but dissolves
the way stars do
when they die.

an ode to allergies

it’s a curious thing
watching your body
set fire to itself.

for one whole year
i underwent
an arson
from within.

all those intricate systems
of renewal
were now operating
in reverse.

landscapes
made out of skin
turning to cinder.

-you can imagine my surprise-

i guess i never
really thought
all those years of
self-destruction
would actually
work.

stitched up

if my memory is right
we are in my kitchen,
although it is warmer, brighter
than my kitchen normally is.

you have wild hair
& i unpick
the creases
where your skin
comes together

it feels like
pale fabric

on a rusty transistor
they are talking about
the tides.

skin colour

all i could see

was the colour of skin

when it comes alive.

that translusecent hue

halfway between electricity

halfway between science.

punctuate

my hands were tongue-tied

i wrote out instructions for viewing my work

you could not make sense

of this language formed

in the pauses between our thoughts.

lighthouse

it seemed
that you could

sense me

like a ship
passing in the night.

the lights

in the windows
of your house

flickering

each time i pass.

rpm

the teeth at the back
of your mouth

soft like the fruit
of ancient trees

my heart beats at
45
rotations per minute.

liquid riddle

all the celluloid
had caught on fire

by the time
we made it out
of the room.

there are some
pixels
that will never
project

like century-old
mirrors
that will not
reflect.

evidence

words were
billowing
from that conversation,

unravelling in spools
& hanging
half way between
the ocean and the sky.

the only power I had left
was language

and I only had

a small amount
of that.

***

you told me
there is no such thing
as a love affair
without a paper trail

all human relations
rendered by
the quiet testimony
of week old emails
& paper notes stuck
to the fridge.

by the end I decided
to go scorched earth
with you

not a scrap
of evidence
would be left
anywhere.