Ninety

There is a shadow on the wall

Like a story

Turning ninety

Just like my years

She says

Hiking her little girl socks

You are more than that

I say

Holding her close

Our bed goes 

Bump in the night

The roof lifts

No amount of powder 

Will hold us down

My breath is quick

Halting

I am scared of waking up

And of sleeping

Where are we then

She asks

My heart beats

Superfast

Turned right up to ninety

Murdering time

Tick tock

Tick tock

Tick

Tik

Tock

Ultra bright

Super right

Time is never real

No elation

Nothing left to feel

All chemicals

And powders

Wounds that never heal

The floor is cold

It sends a gift

A little letter 

Flickered on the wall

A paper bag full of silver

A cork board full of prayers 

I think it is my name

Desperately trying to reach me

It flies away 

Wings beating

Ninety to the dozen

If I try to catch it

At least I know my name 

She whimpers

Rubbing her sky blue eyes

I do wish we could climb out of here

I am feeling rather low

Your skull is far too small 

Tight as mother’s corset

Strong as father’s fist

There is a shadow on the wall

Like a story

Turning ninety

Can we pay our ten and six

And ask to leave the table.

Delivery

I took in your pots and pans

Left no note 

Hurry scurry

Down the stairs

God forbid

We cook up milk and honey

Remember how bright it was

When we ran away

Quick as phantoms

Bold as brass

Tumble jumble

Down the muddy path

We didn’t even care about our shoes and socks

She giggles

We made it to the stones

Remember

Light so fast

It made the moon smoke

And the shiny burn our eyes

Down the alley 

All at sea

Battered

Tattered

Frayed

Splattered

The glass 

Warm as a miracle in my hand

Home

Sink

Blue 

Glove

Powder

Choke

Hold

Tight

I run my tongue over three crooked teeth

They are earth pebbles

Saying my name

As the words spill out

Guilt ruin shame

The ink pools

Thick as water around my feet

We don’t run now

We lie

Past dreaming 

Lead balloons

Medicating

Meditating 

On the kitchen floor 

Signing parcels

Opening the door

Waiting 

Always waiting 

For the kiss

The delivery

To say that we are home.

Climate

The glue itches 

In the night

I tear the bandages off

Blind

Sleeping

Brutal

Wake

It hurts

And it doesn't even stick us together 

She cries

I hold her

Try not to think

Try not to think

We are stuck stuck sticky 

Together

In this mess

Forever

Perhaps it won't be long though

She says through chattering teeth

Not in the current climate

We are always cold

Head clammy

Fingers blanched and blue

Remember when we ducked

Under the bed for cover

It was fun wasn’t it

Wanting to survive

I didn’t know you were there then

She says

Turning over

The sun shines bright

Like piano key teeth

Sings an empty song

There's a penny on the red light

Did I see it

Pick it up

Nothing takes the pain away

Except more pain 

She says

Turning over

We are a zero sum equation

They rolled us in the attic one by one

Left us there to rot and simmer

Wrote in letters how we grew and healed

Lies

Flies

Cherry 

Pies

Nothing on paper becomes real 

She says

Turning over

You did

I write letters to myself

Dense sticky bandages

In the night

I am so thirsty 

But cannot move

The penny drops

Like a thermometer 

The piano keys thud

I have always been in seclusion 

Haven’t I

Of course silly 

Why do you think I came to you

She smiles

Turning over.

Paste

We stand the stones

Like atoms

In the bottom of the bath

She sings a song of sixpence

I laugh

To my surprise

Eyes like pies

Half baked

In the sky

The powder jumps like jelly beans

In god we rust

She warbles

Blue but not electric 

Maybe our layers are rainbows

She opens her arms

Like branches

Aiming for the moon

Maybe I say

Holding her hand

How can I tell her

We are dry as oak trees

Rotten

Forgotten

Still

Falling through the floor to

The end of the world 

No flight line

No journey

No return 

The pretty girl welds in gold

Let's study the stars 

And put them all in silver jars

She opens her mouth

My baby bird

I feed her

Lies

Pies

Burnt

Black

Skin

Face white as powder paste

An endless cycle

An endless show

Beige walls bending

Bath plunging

The source of our being 

Hidden in bottles 

And smiles

We stand the stones

Like atoms

In the bottom of the bath

She sings a song of sixpence

I laugh.

Patron

You are the patron saint 

Of everything blue

And buried

She giggles

We are in the bathroom

Getting high in our slippers

And socks

Living the dream

The best dream

The best dream

Is not real

I think

The tactile loss of all despair

Floating in the water

An abrupt vacancy of hope

And love

Look the clouds are stuck in jam

And the rain is drifting eastwards

I can’t look up

The weather is deluding

Deceiving

No

Deluding 

Just like us

In which case 

That would be deluded

We are knotted up in boredom

Two little girls

Old as branches 

Stuck on ancient trees

She swings on the scales

Of justice

No

Dragons

Silly

She giggles

Jumping off

Curtains of distinction

Carpets with flair

The kitchen is dysfunctional

She concludes

Can we go now

I am stuck

Not still

The tiles cold

The bath tub bendy

It has always been this way 

I think

Boxed in

Locked out

Raw

Uncovered

I am far past lost Alice

What did I misplace 

Your trust

Silly

You should know 

I am the only one who stays

She brushes her skirt

Lifts her chin

She is right

Of course

I should know

She is the only one who stays

My little patron saint

Of powder and dust

Love and loss

Everything blue 

And buried.