your fingernails turn my head into a zen garden,
raking back every thought till my mind is clear.
My thumb travels from your temple to your cheekbone
if the shower wasn’t running I’d swear time had slowed.
repositioning arms gives space between us occasional gasps.
A spaceship manoeuvres round our moving mountains of skin
aiming for the light, before my stomach falls onto you back
“You’ll never make it!” a crewman screams. “Just… keep.. on!”
the captain barks.
that’s all the drama a Sunday can hold.
Best ways to crack a back?
a quick jolt from the bottom
of my palms till i hear the click
Your method is different to mine
it involves feet
on my spine.
I get nervous
close my eyes.
in a smaller, wider, bed
check my phone for your texts
scratch my head hard as I can
trying to find the feeling you'd give.
but I’m impatient. Want results quick.
go outside, feel climate change.
swallowed by the weight of the day
The space between us is now too large
to take. Heavy like
Large fries and a soy milkshake.
heavy like the drums on one in million
You can fill hundreds
between our hands.
and an Ocean.
hand me a towel I’m dirty dancing.
by myself, going for naps
in my jaacket.
(You’re passing up two opportunities
when you pass up one cos
you’re missing the potential stuff
that could’ve come.
Two Edinburghs skipped
but what’s the point of writing
if I’m not writing about this?)
Mate I’m a tectonic plate with legs
Got my arrow of hopes aimed to the west
When I come back
you come through my hair
and ask why I have all these
scabs on my head.