there's no competition to name the life we missed, our eyes looking out for each other.

coming in, going out, abrasion wears the signature of relationship.

motion and chance, shelter and oblivion.

under the bonnet, the ferryman weighs the coin, the mechanism seizes and joni sings 'you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone'

straying into another day, remember to wrap yourself in the blue of the sky.

adults grown past family, negotiating entertainment.

keep your pond small, a hands breath, the skies race enough adventure.

harder than hanging, is cutting the ties.

backroom players in thick smoke slam down cards, driven by visions of possession.

can i, flattened, drowned, leave behind ophelia, and rise above the ring pull of can't.

i love the rose on your bronze face, a simple shield to thumb up fragments of life.

impact from alien debris pits the shining skin of your child's dream.

wipe my circuits, my shape wont stay still long enough to connect.

in the dregs of a drained cup, the future is read.

tin rattle of cans scraping tarmac, the car accelerates, bottom trawling for love.

cast of bitter disposition dispossessed by the screw of hierarchy.

tools of the trade, a worn erasure, a blade fingerprinted, angled to shave the shadows.

the wide mouth of chance, pulls a narrowing channel, back to the bottle.

energy laps over itself, in a state of constant indigestion.

taking the skin off, an intake of breath and something leaves.