You will see me: I’ll come,
A papercut in my suitcase,
The pulse of a germ in my wallet,
Or a bracelet of threats on my wrist.
I will temper the wind
And turn the plumpest cloud
Into white paste,semolina
With a dollop of blood for your sins.
I am the divider of thoughts;
The electric dog in the kettle;
The bright burn in roses
Scorching the bum of a Bee.
I am the curse that Shakespeare’s bones
Swallowed dust for; I am blood startled
By a rubber band on the vein.
I can come anytime.
Right now,I am busily fucking your husband;
But I might as well try your daughter,
Or your dog.
All of your dreams
And all of your sought ambitions;
I relocate optimism
And bury it deep,beneath green.
You already know who I am,
While you snip away at your hedgerow,
Twisting your back to distraction
While I am the fencepost
On which your rumours of God
Will now lean. She is my partner in this.
If only you understood that. One feeds
The Other,both gulping you down.
Life is cream.
Illustration Elena Caldera