I would rather go than stay
stripping fragments off the back of my mind
struggle to try not to talk about it
and not to hide

said he would just go and do what I would of him
so as to call it a request for
nothing but earth
scent of clove and bronze shimmer
late summer evening notes
in the middle of winter

standing still with words lost and flattered
by being treated so nicely by a favour
entwining sleepless nights
it does not take much to catch up on a religion
without smoke and distance and dark eyes
to slip away, break away through intention

having disturbed the smooth turning of the universe
as I hide away this knowledge of my own
by casting petty lies or dreaming dreams too wild
or at least too vivid in this goldilocks zone.