Alteration finds
Alteration finds
“The dusky strand of death inwoven here
With dear love’s tie, makes love himself more dear”
Holywell Cemetery, Oxford
After he left. Listing might be performance art, quickfire bulletpoints honed in absence: Arcadian Cardiff’s bilingual streets, Donohoe’s Rachmaninov, the most phenomenal sound I have ever heard. Finals, a national prize, Seamus Heaney introducing my words. Belle of the ball, dancing with The Gorgeous Boy, his hands at my back and flinching at your name. Bald marble and the absence of Marvell’s echoing song.Lord’s cowers under sunrise, all rain-stained glass and unexpected success. You’ve gone beyond, and briefly, defensively, I’m drawn back to these boomerang men.
***
Holiday: Berck-Plage. Weeping with the dead, elaborate metaphor smashed like the stone you invoked. Hysterical she’ll leave me too, when the phrase returns, little language you were never there to share. “Guess what? I love you.” I haven’t the heart to explain. Half a mile stretches out like years; this perfectbeautiful girl, my duchess, my queen. My princess – the phrase that slipped away. For days, I can’t find the words, and, scattering chipped coral, she departs. I can’t see the point of anything outside love.
As He might say, it doesn’t take five seconds to figure out. Stark pillows unsheathed, a flash of friendship quickly killed.
***
Words I could never say; passport rots the bottom of a box. Four years, the first perfected man. The first year who looks like you moves in, apocryphal anorak brushing my skin, and I have to walk away.
You complained of poor circulation, frozen hands. This time, I warm the knife up first.
A smiling child; red roses you never gave.
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose leaves
The way I feel today - 10 July 2004
Just seventeen - 17 March 2004
Roads to freedom - 25 February 2004
Confessions of a failed self-harmer - 25 February 2004
Manchester, united - 25 February 2004