when you walk into the atmosphere there is a horrible stench
and when you sing these symphonies,
the sharp sting of blood creeps the inner surface of each tooth, behind
lips spun of wood and silk.
i smile, for you,
and watch your mirror eyes mimic the seeping voice piece.

this is the rush i caught from my veins
blowing through the ceiling in an one-flight rage.

so you
let them appear and cross over militant borders of
floating dream realities, made of fake wedding rings and
worn fabric hem.
beckoning, let her in,
hovering craft of kicked ice;
deaf to our bitter love because
there are stars in your ears,
heart clogged with glutinous fat.

your precious fingertips only ever cooperate to raise
a cigarette to harsh words in the dead of winter.
the chilled wind dreamt of tossing straight
curls of smoke in your face, a
fevered hope to smother and choke colouring
our cheeks rosy pink.