Adventures in the Skin Trade    Baggage kneels heavy on our hearts  late night Hotel porter lays two suitcases  underneath a broken neon sign.  It crackles ‘For Lost Lovers Only’    Crush my burning lips as ashes  coil bed sheets into sailing knots,  let's shelter in our skin...

Above the star ceiling  there is an attic which houses   secrets and undeclared love,  decades of wreaths and erections  who told Sinatra to stop singing?    In moon river dreams, my limbs drifted   from pillow to ache within the attic    A heavy breeze from...