royness ( ' ' )

She comes to me
in the early evening twilight
drawn by breath or scent -
...

He comes home to find Grandma, still –
sitting amidst the papers and magazines,
the dirtied grey furniture,
the crumbling walls and curtains stained
...

A stone is thrown. A window
Shivers briefly in its frame, shatters
Into fragments, falls in a rain
Of glittering crystal.
...

Stuck rigid on his stick, he stands,
scraggly hat and a head full of straw -
blank button eyes stare straight ahead,
never blinking, seeing nothing
...

He wished for her
and here she stands -
naked and blameless,
ineffable, immaculate-
...

beyond the lighthouse
treading water with her toes -
pockets full of stones
...

New auras delight, plain odours leaguer
And divans are preferred to tombs.
The strangest flowers sour the effect
Enclosing our new sister, the sow from below.
...

She seemed too huge to be dead.
Flopsy, our rabbit,
Our mad albino –
frozen stiff like meat from the freezer.
...

Alone in the aquarium,
I stare at the fish through glass

Their movements follow my fingers
...

Death drops the hourglass -
it shatters across the floor, sand spills
out over shards of glass -
every grain an hour.
...

I was out on the balcony, alone, when the angel appeared to me. I covered my ears and pretended not to hear him. Once he was near enough, I gripped him by the shoulder and slashed through his wings with my penknife. They were delicate as paper and easy to cut through. Faker! Imposter! I threw him from the balcony.
Please don’t misunderstand me. This all happened in a matter of seconds. I am quick when I need to be.
I tied the wings to my back with an elaborate tangle of pins and string and thread. Standing at the edge, I looked upon the fallen angel. His body lie broken on the rocks below, stripped of its wings. A man and nothing more.
I flexed muscles I’d never known I had, in readiness for flight.
...

Quick, instinctive –
We strap ourselves in. Switch on
the stereo, flick headlights –
the engine growls and whines,
...

Her lover was a haggard, weathered
statue, worn and undefined.
Time
had stiffened him. He was
...

In search of his mother, Zushio
edges over the shoreline.
He crosses between two trees,
steps barefoot over the stones.
...

Monday, March 24th

Dear Diary,
This has gone on long enough. This examination, pages in self-effacement, the dragging through desperate moments. You are too great a danger, too much of a risk.
...

We, who have learnt to love the rain
Salute to the sun
Blocking your path, with
Arms as big as branches
...

He stopp’d me on the street -
crook’d fingers cupped ‘round a china mug
slurred brown with age, cocked out towards me -
Spare a few pence? He spat and said.
...

We were never truly bad, only
born into the wrong time
a world without heroes or gods
where everything is lost...lost...
...

Why flee from fear of feelings too intense?
Dear Emily provided the refrain:
Much madness is in fact divinest sense
...

The banker would have left us with nothing,
burning the drafts of castles and countries
and a never ending trial,
adjourned
...