There is
a dedalaus, K and
an almasy...
Inside.
They are not mine.
(Sayswho??
well, jamie, franz and mikey over there)
There is a cappucino,
a notebook and
a german pen -
Outside.
They are not mine-
Either.
(Says who??? - Master card)
Heck!
even my children
are only
half mine…
(says who?- biology lecturer)
but these:
they come,
ricochet,
stay,
go away…....
These
are mine
and
mine alone…(hahaha!!)
These words.
10/05/05-18:41- Manchester.
while the train heaves to hasten on
million nameless noises
and scampering voices
build upon,
a cling a clutter a scurry a mutter
for this grand
concert of the platform;
this ceremonious bustle
that waits for that one last whistle............
and dangling by the moving door, through the small space formed between your overcoat collar and the freezing ear tip, you glimpse her lips move; move like a silent ship in this sea of sound - bare, definite and floating away.....as if to mean ''call me when you get there''.
oh! lovely
those atheist lips
vague and receding now
trying to say
so coyly, how
your agnost lips
kissed them,
again
and again
so fervently
under so many moons
and lazy holiday afternoons.....
.. and a breeze gathers in your face. a memory is born inside. in your heart there is a new sea. hollow and filling... heavy.... heavier....
oh! weird... this mad torrent gushing, splitting your veins one by one, melting your knees, so quick, so easy... oh!.... this haze in the eyes, this heat in the throat, this ache in the being....
And how you wish to release, from between your ears, these words -''O !! Love! , you sweet slayer, how cruel this belonging '' but instead you throw out a hoarse shriek of 'I will I will ' to a growing distance.
