Ghosts Over Tea
GHOSTS OVER TEA – a poem
GHOSTS OVER TEA – a poem
When the king falls, and he will fallAnother will sit in his placeAnd a hundred others will hold him up& plot his disgraceThey will talk about the politics of bodiesThey will gamble these bodiesThe woman with five husbandsWas shared property & objects have no agency He looks at me &…
Love does arrive, neatly packaged. It grows in mud that stains. Sometimes it poisons your being. Still, I keep it watered and nourished. Because, have you see the flowers?
You are in my conversations. You are part of my conversations. You are in every breath even as I’m profoundly me.
A monologue because is love ever anything else? If we’re lucky both faces of love are modeled for us in clear, unambiguous ways.
Desire puts us in the space of seeing what we need, what we yearn for. And this, right now after a long period of starvation & loneliness & desolation is shadowy. The needs are real but are they deep or transient? Will they vanish like FOMO the minute they are…
His voice holds me. His words unravel me. And the trouble is the unraveling, the undoing, the blurring continue long after the voice has gone silent, the line cold. Because words, they linger. Burning flesh wounds inside defenses. And everything else feels harder, sharper, steelier. I am in a world…
A poem about attraction and affection crossing borders.
You wouldn’t recognise desirein the emptiness in your mouthmaking way for wordsthat your stomach is already breaking down You wouldn’t know desire if it licked youYou think it’s meant to kick & clawNot snuggle between your cellsBreathing the quiet places between people You wouldn’t trust desireEven if you laid bare…
I visited Greece and Turkey in 2008. Every moment was a lesson. Colour was a big part of it all.