Between Still And Fractured States
I dreamt of you at the balcony
throwing flour bombs at the passing funeral
You had done your hair
in a way you knew would piss me off
By then we were keen archers of each others dislikes
We knew which to press
press again to depress
destruct
I went away from you
to smell the fresh cut grass of a disused lunatic asylum
fueling disaster on far south stairs
Of course she was not you
Time distance and monotony did the rest
Where were you when I crossed the bridge
and the phantoms came to meet me
When I felt for your soft hand
brushed aside by ashen thorns
our voice tied
always tied to your fear of flight
Your cold gaze
Oh for any eye other than the one
which slammed a steel shutter
over the window of my soul
I went on into the shattered town
asking of strangers and damaged goods
Can I be one of you
where is our connection
Where can I say
Here is some similarity
between the hours spent living
and the years spent dead
How I should have held you then
The bridge crossed
so many times
so many times
The phantoms may not hurt me now
but I know I will cross
So many times
So many times
Did we ever listen
did we ever look
at each other
Taking steps together
fearless children we were
Borders crossed travelled by rail in sunlight
so unaware of the shadows sunlight creates
Why could you not see
I became your translator
growing unfamiliar with the language you spoke
We tried to fight against it
Tell me we did that
At least we did that
Together we climbed a golden rope ladder
the glare of illusion burning our fingers
the soles of our feet
Now the gold became our base desires
each more bestial than the last
the beatings
inhumanity
hatred
unlike anything you could imagine
The gold became rotting hemp
and yet I did not resist
I did not resist
And if you could speak to me now
do you think I would let you
If you could lick my heart
it would poison you
What strong feelings we invest with impunity
Can we love without being in love
leaning against the pedestal
knowing full well that everything is over
Now when I cross the bridge what do I fear
I fear nothing
Not even the solitude which now gladdens my heart
I will see you once again
in the territory of land
thunder
and rain
When we live our lives
without this dream state
can we say
Yes we were right
Dare we say
Yes we were wrong
on our journeys between still and fractured states
Taken from the anthology: First Thoughts Towards Our Collective Dreams