Living colour in the mirror


feels so strange.           that you’re
going? that i’m going without a          house 

              to wear.

open your sheepskin coat – quick!  my young hands might
be the wind & you  might read a verse to me during our final
tonight. oh Love! your bad obsession with cheap
salted snacks & my pitiful obsession with dancing women
   it’s not summer anymore say goodbye to the calmness of a wall

striped linen suit with a red breast bow
stomped into greyish leaves. i (yr sunshine)
depart on an        international     flight      my chore
today is sobbing               i’m not writing ever
never     again. it’s
impossible – how can i? after watching

the chapel of your  back disappear into
an english street, how transparent you are
  muscles stuck fast along
vertebrae like a line of red   moaning  chandeliers    

…i’m leaving for years & years
concealing it for reasons of        cupidity
wearing the marble you gifted me it’s a
glass smash rose, i’m writing this from
the aircraft i can see the
italian alps like            potato
open your hand & show me how
full I think it may be enormous while
I fly in a veil of empty fingers.

 

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Blossom Hibbert

 

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