markbousfield

As I revered the bones of the young and dead,
as I slipped into the gaps between consciousness
the gaze of unkempt desire (tending the
loose coins I held in my hand) came to me.

I stand motionless,
my world is still.
Each of your scars I miss,
the ones I could embrace and keep warm,
illustrious pathways of existence like
a stranger's hand reaching for the knife inside of my heart,
that wretched thing,
I don't care for it anymore.
Sleep well.

For Vera Bousfield
19th October 2006
I'll miss you