Subject Objects.

Time holds you close

A butterfly

Caged in the palm of its hand

Your beating wings caress its fingertips

As the pin drives, slowly, down.
Straining, struggling

Striking, frantically

At the eye of your mortality

On your knees before a deity

That takes and touches
Indiscriminately.

Minutiae

Mingled breath & arcing synapses

Tearing flares into the air

Coded, incandescent

Elemental, evanescent

A firing across a fissure

An instant, reaching for the next.

I published this poem in Verandah Literary Journal, 2012.

Golden

Take my hand

All you can carry you can keep

My bones

Recast them as your own

Extracted, purified

Engineered symmetrical

Beautiful insensible

Synthesised perfection

An inhuman resurrection

A form, not born

All perfection, all divine

All yours.

Muse

Unexpected melodies find my ear

And turn my head

A softness blooms, liquid in your eye

Exquisite guileless words, loosed

Find their mark

& make me beautiful

It lingers, like bruises on my face.

Googol

A desperate flash of light

Sustained by the scratching of a pencil

Cradled in six mirrors

Feeds, swells

Infinitely duplicated

Extinguished

With the flick of a switch