You smoked Mayfair’s
I hired a cake tin
Tried to bake it sweet
I will trip skip over the moon
Swallow the flowers whole
That sounds nice sighs Alice
As we ingest our scars alone
The bells got stuck
Like stray birds
Struggling to take flight
They lodged in our throat
Like an old year
Passing in the night
Sometimes there are spiders
Buried in the bed
Wishing
Wishing
Silent creeping
Going to tea with the bugs
Laughs Alice
A little pale
A little plain
All our colour gurgles down the drain
Something chimes inside
Day done
Gone the sun
Find the moon
And eat the stars
We lie on the floor
Expecting something holy to arrive
I hold her hand like the only truth
How far we have strayed
Beyond the spiders
Past the bells
As far beyond
As an old year
Passing in the night.
