The tv spills a cold, invasive blue I have an impression Of you walking on my spine As if I were an arc and cable bridge And you a monster movie freak Grown so large and petulant that None could help but fall The sea below hard and pliable as new discoloured bruises Tear it down, you say Crush them all beneath your unbound feet As if the stillness Before and after earthquakes Were merely punctuation Wrath is love, you write on the sky The moon moves farther away each year I still abide, calling in that silent way That I have always had She shrugs Cloud shadow, listens
