In the dark hours, when I should sleep
the light burns bright and fires are still deeply burning a flame higher and higher for you.
I will myself to break this ache
I still want to be close to you.
To just. Hold hands. Grasp at fingers. Move together.
I am moved by you. I am on my knees. On my knees so raw and calloused from dragging my heavy body through a daily routine.
But in the end, I am a woman in need. That need was not sated.
I am broken by the cause. I am destroyed by the solution.
But to just. Be with you. Take your hands. Trace your bones.
Bones. Laid bare.
Bones; grey and infected by a poison called -.
It runs deep and through fluid and solid matter
It does matter. We are still one. Or am I now half.
But to just hold you and touch you and feel you next to me. I would be happier with your flesh enveloping my flesh.
I will wait for you. Perhaps one day I will forget I was waiting. But deep inside, the poison will remain and I will be waiting like we waited.
Before we made it; we needed. And I was Naoko.
Come to my funeral. Cry. Seep out your poison.
It must end. But. To just hold you. I would cry and the poison would replenish from watering.
One Day.
You shine as silver when we convalesce in autumn sun. Such beauty reserved itself for this day. We spoke once of foul play. Never, in our heart, will such misdemeanors encourage poison to rush forwards through blue veins. We inject secret effusion each morning in glorious moments. Lips touching and devouring heady scent to remind us that we are floating with the greatest of ease down the longest river. An overflow, our love, a pure source of lust.
I noticed your stretched out toes and wanted to press my fingers in the soft gaps. You restful positions are both amusing and endearing. I want to cuddle next to your beautiful being and listen to the sweet purr as I touch the velvet ears
My body as a shell. My heart as a tomb. Waves flooded in those days where your face lit up the caverns. Now mere trickles slowly creep in. I will never again feel the rapturous tides of immense adoration. Your waters swelled in pure and filling emotion. Crisp and quenching I savoured each drop. I take these small trickles that barely cover the solid rock deep at the bottom of this shell. Those walls will grow moss. My tomb will be dank. It will cling to the mediocre supply of life filtering through. My dear. My tomb is nothing without you.

I was consumed by your breath, your presence, your touch. The first night, so real and full of love, clings on to my memory and I cannot leave it behind. I will not forget you. I will not stop loving you.


Long drawn out pauses have been replaced by incessant mumblings.
I am talking to you. Honest and desperate - curls of uncertain fragments push out from my lips. Immediately they are wafted away like bothersome smoke. You tell me that it’s not dignified but you are the one breaking apart my words until they have lost all fundamental truth.
Oh. We made this together. An uncalculated expression of desire and resignation; we needn’t have bothered. It has launched us into a continuum of nothing at all. Severity not fully understood but it will not improve after the event. Words are replaced by smiles that hide real feelings. But they cannot be shared until grass has been replaced by snow.
Matter-of-fact, succinct; banality of things said by millions of others. We are nothing special but I am still hurting. The incessant mumblings will stop.

> > > >

The silence has cast a damp shadow over our frenzied eyes.
With solemn faces, I look into your pupils. They are cold and small. Once upon a time, our eyes dilated in the instant that we saw each other. Large ebony moons in the flooded oceans of blue and green. But those oceans are deserts now and our moons are but insignificant pebbles on grey streets.
Say, did you offer me an embrace? A warm hopeful embrace making me sink into the sand? Or was that a mistake on my part? Is it more a closed cocoon where you will hide me from any other watchers? I may feel safe there but today has shown the falsity of that haven. A moment in which we both come together, but the space is greater than it is when we’re apart. The eyes tell me so.
Stretching pupils, stretching womb. I stretch to touch your face. I am extending and cradling, deeply hurting and silently staring. The shadow does not yet lift.


Crisp clicks and ticks of keys
smooth letters fixed in place
softly they give to the push of words
drowned out by white noise
and still these white tiles are clicking

I take them in my mouth
I take them in my heart
I feel them beneath red fingertips

Patient flash, white glare
clogged atmosphere heeds
little black ants from left to right
unsure of meaning
and still these white tiles are clicking

I took you in my mouth
I took you in my heart
I felt you between red fingertips

Exuding innocence
Seeping filth; glory days
Decadent in the profound I waited
Devil's hands snail pace
and still these white tiles are clicking

I took it from your mouth
I took them from your heart
I took you from red fingertips