celestial

on the off , dancery

lane Chance, a phone

screen take-away, pick

up a shot or two

along the way, rev

myself. direction myself to

an old tomb, where I

left you. dig you

upstairs, pulling bannisters,

walls fade into cotton

photo folio. I pretend

I hold you, but I watch

others. I take in, almost,

names fall. slowly

they crawl back until

it’s just

us.

your hand pressures,

naked eyes splinter, but

I stay with the line. For

what a terrible song

would that sin.

head

face

words

fall close,

lean in then out, skirting

round, around the

plant pots you proud over.

were you not who you

are, would seizure entirety

over your fitted sheets.

a keep eyesing

me.

keep off this

sculptured stainer. we

cannot cut ourselves

into mess. we mustn’t

mesh ourselves

into skips. a dirty lip, I

ask you to ask me. I

safely eject.

my body yeses,

instinct clings you,

but collapsing sofas brood

unwelcome incestual

celestials.

I rush to away.

And wonder h ow I

could have held myself

with you

between…

…and yet

I cannot word out brain.

superiored, you amess

my unaccessed tongue and I

awkward to hide

the storm in blood.

attached to the demons

I devil my own

#abstractpoetry #katiehargreaves #poetry #poem #lovepoem #newpoetry #forbiddenlove

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KATIE KINGSTON

ACTOR | WRITER | MUSICIAN 

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