Leave your name and number
and I won’t call you back
Each star a message
if it blinks you can recover it
like the answerphone’s indicator that you’ve missed a call
Stars just high enough to break the surface of the water should they fall
Your breathing too loud
impatient to be somewhere else
hanging lanterns
compassionate faces
like moons
an alcoholic darkness smothers
any little light [...]

the hand that you reach for to be reassured
the shoulder you cry on
the love that you rest on, when hope falls away under your feet – could be mine
the gaze that you’re lost in
the invisible thread that lifts you up
on a thought of connection, the words you reflect on - they could be mine
take one [...]

this night
moves as slowly as the moon across the sky
waves,
as it passes by an open bedroom window
I’ve decided not to spend my love
on cheap show-rides
that spin me round and dump me
and churn up my insides
Instead I think I’ll save it for the kind that takes its time.
A kind that I can truly say is mine [...]

your house
when you are away
lights candles
and burns them for you
arranges fresias stolen from a friend’s wedding
likes their smell
wish-making liberties
wide open arms
honey and clove scented bedclothes
Even black and white finds its colour over time
sepia photographs and the walking-towards purple of Indian ink
such silent reverence
for the control of a brush
so fine
touch-paper
hair-trigger sensitive
Invisible sign on the door says [...]

Your house when you are gone
goes back to bed
tucks its walls carefully under its feet
sleeps in
undisturbed and warm
has toothpicks lying in the carpet.
Coats of late-July sun paint the kitchen and back garden
smells of cigarette butts
wants you back
Potted plants and slug-bitten herbs
wait for their daddy with upturned leaves
crave to suckle with amnesiatic expectancy
your bathtowels and shirts, [...]