With Icarus, stealing ice-creams

On the eaves it says
Fish caught daily
In waves of rope

There is a yoke
Sunburned in your shoulders and your back
Where through the ache bright day
You bore wings

I imagine the mottled taste
Of vanilla and salt strawberry 

Light globes swim

Big eyed and with that
Lost but stalwart resignation
Of deep creatures unwillingly brought
To gasp the evening-coloured air

The door is screened
By the flat Neapolitan droop
Of tentacles, slap an insult

Above the threatening continental shelf, a monstrous 
Toroid eye, eats insects in the hard
Whip-crack, a singe
Of rising oil and burning wings
Datura noxious in the chitter ricochet
From the loom and pedestal
Of a turning fan

The caged steel weight
Makes me think
Of Icarus falling
In burning oscillation 

Just that one decisive moment

Our grievance at the sinking sun
At the fish-eyed mirror
Of our recalcitrant misdemeanours 

While you melt

In eternal denial
On repeat