1.
Cold tea-cups jumped
off the table when I opened my eyes this morning.
They must not like the sound of my eyelashes crashing into eachother
and must know how sometimes
oxygen feels too far from our sinking lungs.

2.
When my hipbones became loose hinges,
half sliced off and a sore-thumb view, it did not occur to me
that I was ill, just a little bit below the floorboards
with the taps of people walking above, nobody ever knows
when I am there.

3.
I believe that wine bottles mean something different
for everyone
and for me it is not just a delightfully fruity
drink to sip with friends, it is a two pm lecture I cannot build up courage to go to
and pretending my head is in the clouds when really it is with my heart
under the table and wine bottles are just another way of saying
my red eyes are locked in a drawer with black underwear and sad songs
and I do not want to let them out today --

the wine is all gone now
and so am I.

4.
Paintings are beautiful and I want to draw your eyebrows in pencil
and colour your skin with cream acrylics, dotting freckles under your eye sockets,
paint your hair with sun highlights that remind me
of when you put your hands in my back pockets to look for something more
than anyone has ever looked for before,

then everyone else could see
how your lips are tiny lines of poetry with smooth line breaks and heart-stopping imagery,
and you should know that nobody else will ever picture you like this
and you will never stall anybody’s blood flow
as much as mine.

I would keep this picture in my pocket
and pretend your dirty hands with veins like fake treasure maps
were still in there looking for me
because I am still a little bit lost.

                                                                                                                                     [withoutyou]