Caress Cymraeg whispers
– red, white and green –
to stalk your neck and flower fragrance
upon the hills of your skin
Love bites will colour the braille
of each lost village talking to another,
semaphore, morse code, my mouth
would swap conversation for kissing
Snowdondia susurration between your lips
Bible back bedroom
for your eyes only
can’t you see surrogate
stars drifting from umbilical moon
cord is the bondage tying our open curtains
In abeyance, in balance
of skyscrapers to flooded cottage
breuddwyd town where we can live
together, whether, daily climate
is heatwave turning to snow
Calon lan and the lands
between honesty and truth,
desires which keep you awake at night
would you ever send 3 a.m. letters
folded within duvet envelopes?
In burial vinyl of
partners, family and friends
I struggle to hear their voices
