thehatterschild

shadow creeps across city hall pall mall overnight like poison ivy blocks streetlight listen for listening parliament to parler but they're bowing their heads. and we were led to believe that where you marked your x ensured the spectre would pass over but shadow sneaks across the rolling hills and inside a petrol bomb the man threw at his neighbour shadow spread. in the space of silence bubblewrapped words of violence inflated that tube packed tin can undergraan' upped the pressure and bang! fifty-seven-fold shadow spread. lonely sign shivers in the wind by the road or by the channels between man's land and god's hand tells you to Leave a

we hands and arms are the limbs of the universe. outstretched and feeling and dumbly moving i was born with a lightning strike i'll blink my eye and die with the thunder. but between the clap and the rumble we fumble in the dark perhaps we stumble and fall - to rise like in lungs a crescendo the crest of a wave of atoms in hot gas we breathe and it's burning a million light years away.

out of the blue, you said “i wonder,” with joy, as if wondering was brand new, “if emotions between people act as a glue or a moving shore between them, contract and expand, like lungs, and if the tides are controlled by the moon, perhaps the astrologers croon for more than pleasing turkish kings and queens. none of this is logical of course.” your words bounce off the walls and i teach you how words bounce off each other through time, celtic to anglo-saxon, norman from latin - you’re impressed! you teach me some rhyme, (smile when you anecdote on your grandfather) and come back to the history later, with a hear

and the trees, they murmur in coils unto branches - and from branches, a breathing canopy: where dark veins shatter from dark veins and web, to cradle dusk. to flourish, fan in the dawn. look to dew drops - they glisten! like wine, or life-blood.

i swirled the honeypot. in the time i sucked my finger, thought of how you taught me to look for love in little things. and now i see it all in everything: the raspberries, the bumblebees. in the melodies of autumn whistling between trees. in plants wandering up pavement cracks. your laugh. you made me gentle: with a palm between your ribs, feel each turn of your heart echoed in my pulse. dragging, like incense through water, sets a slow and steady tempo. serenity. your thumbstroke on my arm committed to memory. you kept me safe: built a bridge of marble hands beneath the tightropes. you're cheering, saying "you will not fall," but there a

i miss 
 dandelion hands and words 
that he blessed to me
 on a light and easy breeze. white silk and elderflower, 
carelessly, 
i remember:
 i blushed my secrets into 
the infrared. (and sent out a signal.
 “you’re sweet.”) double bed to double bed,
 two single empty spaces
 between the threads. he caressed himself
 into my head 
and would ghost around the
 corners there, 
 [jagged,
 and the lightning] 
and lingered,
 eased the blare of
 the drumming 
that roiled behind 
my eyelids, 
as the thun