Archive for the Melancholy Category
Calling Him Home

Down the line, a quiet, crackling, broken voice
A telephone held, knuckle-white,
“He was strong. Something was wrong.”
The details assaulting
Unprepared: my objection, too slow
“His head never dipped below.”
“He was, at all times, kept afloat.”
– which is assuring, I suppose.
Where a cursed imagination, had taken what was missing
and filled it with troubled fiction
which later re-read with such terrible conviction
the examining; the salt of the heart too heavy; a reality
I couldn’t fully grasp, just like his hand reaching, reaching,
whilst calmly speaking of this dark thing encroaching,
the final drop of the anchor, this thing he had loved like no other
impressing upon him, as it impresses upon me now –
the hot tears, the salt of my sea,
blocked so that I cannot breath
the physicality of the loss, presenting
in the weight of my eyelids, swollen as
I stood alone in the desert
and cried out an ocean.


Something happened
Between the then and the now
I’ve forgotten how to smile
And the smell of the day
I found so refreshing, intoxicating
Has made way for the stagnant
The dark clouds overhead
Suffering through the time
This, my favourite day.

Well (From The Book of Minx)

Way down over a sharp edge
a pitted void and bottom-less tumbling
we fall into a kiss
and move against the world
against a time
I would cry for you.

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