Wednesday, 10 November 2010

Monday, 8 November 2010

shoelaces tied round our necks to make necklaces
small children in pots of boiling water
the darkness getting lighter and lighter
until i cannot be afraid any more
petals from month old roses
like the leaves of a
small doses of poison in every mouthful
i hold your hand but i have to let go
my cold blooded skin smokes
on each point of
waxy calluses scratch the cheeks of all the baby's
faces i stroke
i hold a cigarette now
and will hold it forever
i don't smoke
but i like people to think i
and i like the yellow fingertips
i hold
my head
until i can no longer think any more.