Visual Verse: An Anthology of Art and Words.
Slip clop, buck, chuck, wind in my face, animal earth.
Cold cage blue, a dark corner, inaudible whispering
Your breath is hot, as hot as my fear.
You will take me to the edge of this decay,
You will take me over the edge to the bare bones.
Knotting with you the past and the present.
A black lick.
A crash in the night
A careful colliding, distorted lines, folding in on one another.
And then there is You.
A purr, slower, smoother than melting muscle.
Drip down. Lower your head to mine. A golden hair, an organised sun-lit knowing.
Your sparkling eyes cuddle mine.
I could sleep here, I think.
In this place I am the wind.