660.
Blue October rains,
How can anything be the same
Now I have a name.
661.
My ears are yearning;
All these years were slow-burning
In nautilus souls.
662.
Long maritime love;
I’ve been at sea for so long.
Rock salt, scented words.
660.
Blue October rains,
How can anything be the same
Now I have a name.
661.
My ears are yearning;
All these years were slow-burning
In nautilus souls.
662.
Long maritime love;
I’ve been at sea for so long.
Rock salt, scented words.
A dozen dead-ends later
I found my better self,
Hiding in reflections,
Or somewhere on your shelf.
He blanked me at our café,
Your hand upon his arm;
He filled our box at Othello;
I hammered a theatre alarm.
Infused by choice and chances,
Gods have quirks of humour;
I did not know I’d been stolen
Until I read those rumours
In headlines in his grasp.
I hemorrhaged poems and songs,
He’s gone researching romance
And my cortège won’t be long.