BENT OUT OF SHAPE

There are vampires my love.

They move amongst us
like the walking dead.

And those like you
who take a joy in life,
whose very presence lights up a room,
who blaze a trail across both night and day,
who flare and spark like comet tails
with energy to spare,
it’s those like you who should beware my love.

For it is such as you
who are their prey.

And please my love, don’t be misled.
They are not like the characters
from films, or songs, or books.
They don’t have Boris Karloff looks,
or Michael… Continue

I wear
your bruises
like tattoos.

Admiring the blue
and purple marbled
patterns spread out across my skin.

Silent witness to your weakness.

Visible testament to my strength.

The open skin and bleeding cuts
the closest I will ever get
to letting you
inside me.

I miss your familiar greeting kiss,
the one that’s moved to cheek from lips.
Your direct gaze whose eyes now slide away
and your heart once open now eclipsed.

I wonder if I should patient wait,
or like some hardy Argonaut
should try to circumnavigate
this obstacle that lies between us.
And if you are the guardian of the fleece
that could redeem us or just some decoy,
some distraction placed along the way.

A siren call for this unwary sailor
who maybe should not linger here,
but instead should… Continue

Sunlight,
twice reflected,
ripples across my ceiling
as I lie on that same couch.
Remembering sun-warmed skin,
gooseflesh and the cool fingers
of your caress.

The afternoon that I finally
punctured your disinterest
plays out like a home movie in my head.
Soundless, and complete
with handheld picture shake.

The brightness of the light,
bleaches out the images projected
onto the blank screen of my memory.
Rendering them colourless
and void of detail.

We never did pull down the blinds that after… Continue

Excuse me madam
Is that your husband?
Or perhaps just
the father of your child?
That guy with the pushchair
in the grocery aisle…

Because the three day stubble
and the rough neck fashion
would make me look twice
on any occasion,
but it’s the child in his care
that’s making me stare
‘cos he’s a daddy I’d like to fuck.

And I know that
it doesn’t make any sense
‘cos biologically speaking
it makes no difference to me
whether he's fertile or firing blanks.

Besides I’d settle for a blow job
or a mu… Continue