you’re the kind of beautiful that lurks under the tongue & i’m this black glow waters assume when you’ve had too many a whisky and you’re walking the promenade at night i wonder what the point is if i fall in love with you so easily and you enter my sleeping habits so effortlessly like a glance of a blonde kid in the rear view mirror while driving in the summer yet this has turned out much like an iain banks novel all so majestic and human

london the bride now our city in snow god’s tearing up his pages & fates are re-written weather-beaten you seem on skype and yet more beautiful more ideal more of an idea (for prose) and i’ve seen too many poets writers authors that can’t strike two words together useless yet that meeting collision of your eyebrows (frown) beats me (down) every winter

i’m afraid of nothing for i’m 24 and my shoulders broaden and my arms get bigger and heavier & i go around in my flat naked from the waist up pacing the room in imitation of freaks in captivity this woman saw me at 3am vomiting out the window on richard’s plants she said nice tattoo i said it’s to distract the eye from the scars on my nipples my godmother pinched them hard when i was three to let the baby milk out

we go to seminars to the theatre to talks about dead poets and other norms worms have digested and crapped back into the earth you don’t tell me you love me i don’t tell you i love you once a month i go to this warehouse in islington you can rent for £20 a night i scream your name beating the skeleton of a car they have in the middle of the space with a hammer sometimes there’s a dog there he woofs & watches me wreck the love i have for you

in my drawer i discovered this pair of stockings i stole from you last september and it made me think about how normal i am and how sunny i am in this pitful of boxes cctv glances shush and bully-you-with-kindness humanity it felt like the time you came home & found me writing poems in the bathroom in the end all pretences aside i’m this guy that knows how to buy flowers for you and i won’t go back on twitter

listening to in flames (that’s swedish melodic death metal for you) in full volume in the bathtub staring into the eyes of bronze lions holding in their mouths rings that could be rings for the fingers of giants i am dalí & i am a dalí painting tigers coming out of every pore of my body springing from my cock blending with the colours of rainbows sprouting from the roots of my hair roaring in my veins yes yes i’m irreverent and i’ve eaten the universe

the moment i saw you i knew our bodies would mix one day the way parched rain craves the ground & i also knew it that night i returned home with a pack of stellas and i lay down became the floor wondering how i would feel when i fucked you and how you would feel when you fucked me i took my toothbrush and i opened the window and i threw it out to a fox in the snow i don’t want other animals near me when i write poetry

Kandinsky - Coloured Sticks

Kandinsky – Coloured Sticks