Texture Shots
She grew to be a thousand feet tall
Just on the way it pulls you back
The subtle knowledge that goes with these things
Still won’t stop the looking back
Stood here side by side – Hylas and the witch
There’s not a thought of how
Why it is we come incomplete, cracked
A six am postcard fresco, lighting the wall
It’s not that as bodies we can’t unite
Just that time has made it worn
Maybe it can change direction, turning circle
Or perhaps nothing was meant in a way
Watching out minute by minute
The dirge, relentless tide of the clock
Seeking revenge, slow hard rattle at the door
They don’t slow dance around here no more
§
Could we be anywhere at all?
Reaching around to feel forward
Flying out at you across the night
Taking it out of your play
Retold upside down as if she planned
Not wanting to understand
You forgive her too easy sometime
Biting the hand that leads you
Turning a long way down
Working around how long it has been
The fool is hurt
But that dream pulled away
Left waving from the porch
Turn angle, glowing at the back of the room
§
It just won’t shake
Clouding up in front of you
Then it feeds a fever, runs back to your bones
When you drive it back to something else
Her hair clipped back, looking out from the rear
Clear behind the eyes, insisting upon itself
They begin to file in, one by one
As the din of the enquiries starts
Although there is nothing clear to distinguish
That yesterday is dead
