The gallows within waterfalls
hang desire from harbour walls
This could be the night
we burn diaries and memories
The moon on her dress
crescents her body into mine,
lunar landing of lips and limbs
Boats made of skin
string languid sailors to their mast,
on edges of each waking dream
it’s only the sea which shows mercy
Son of the shore
sand lanterns light my land,
barnacles stuck to my hull’ed heart
will weep when she lies naked in front of me
Above the sea
listen to the stars bleeding
my God, for my life they are falling
Alphabet air-raids exhaust the silence
later, much later, driftwood dreams
will rest at the bed’s thirsty altar
Fading into you
as black & white film into colour,
pockets swollen by pebbles
small tsunami breaths sinking tankers
