Stars that reside in a courtyard containing the desert and all the snowstorms that ever were. Sleepless like the night, she’s shapeless like a jewel. Memories of green. Blush response while waiting for a meal in a busy restaurant. Rain hits the window and shines under the glare of a street light. Buildings that are haunted by loved ones. Periods of time that come and go without you even knowing. The lives you love. The faces you cherish gone before you even realise. Years spent writing a book. So many days hidden away struggling to understand the secrets buried deep within your skull. Symbols regarding the nature of the universe. Wait for me in a place by the sea. A river by the trees. Remember every little thing, and bring them back to life until the taste is in your mouth once more.
Baby teeth and lemonade. Wasps chasing you around the garden as sunshine boils your adolescent skin. Lobsters and endless afternoons in the sun. New York winters and English desperation. Anxiety so overwhelming when there’s no escape from humdrum realities. Don’t bury me. Don’t let me go when I’m sinking beneath the waves. Not waving, just drowning in your absent touch. Alcohol burns my stomach. It opens up the barriers in my head to childhood wonder. Freedom in a glass. Stale cigarette smell as the sun rises behind torn curtains. Silhouettes surrender. They fade as the pillow lures me someplace far away from pain. I’ll never return because I never went away. It’s just a matter of biding my time. The words eventually fit. The vision complete once fantasy is conquered. Suffering and pleasure all the same. Two sides of a coin. Black and white wet dreams. Nightmares that make you feel alive in these bland lands of limbo.
I need to look at the stars more. I need to be tender in a time of war. There’re too many broken souls just hanging around waiting for the second coming. Manchester ghosts flicking through law books. Dead children playing out of the corner of your eye. Gone like flies on a windscreen down the freeway; gone like lust when isolation takes hold. Save yourself. Save everyone you hold dear before it’s too late. Draft after draft just going nowhere. Lover after lover failing when things get too tough. Lonely like flowers in the shade. Lonely like objects left to rust out of view replaced by something new. The clock ticks ever on. Seasons repeat even though the masses deny their existence. Better to pretend they say. Better to imagine that the present is all there ever is. Deny your history. Banish the ghosts of your future. Afraid of depth. Scared of resentment. Fucked by every last friend who swore they would stay until the end.
In the corner of the room, I see a pair of shiny shoes. Such sweet feet they contain. Such a beautiful soul housed in turmoil. Excerpts from your favourite movie replacing real life. Bad machines instead of cats and dogs. Succumb to deadened waters of the womb. As a child, I painted with poster paints. I saw shapes that weren’t there. Books as bricks in a stairwell reaching to the moon. Magic in the palm of my hands. Rivers and streams containing music the kind not known by the slaves in your phonebook. Missing in action. Brunette temptress on the shores of whores. All tongue and no mouth. All mouth and no tongue. Salvation in a split second approach. Redemption swirling like the smoke from a car exhaust. It makes patterns around the light bulb above our heads. It acts as a lubricant to devilry. There was an age when I didn’t know where to go, but now I’m back where I belong.