BEDROOM  WINDOW

the smell of nightwash on the stand permeated through the subtext of lightning squire haven. I drew back words and there was heaven at the door waiting like a nightgown to be refilled and paid for. This caress of too much told, insipid preview of doubtless chateau, once watched and knew, became one. There was living at the threshold, time waited if I wanted it to and then sank between walls of questless drama, rank and out of reach.

I whispered to what was once, and berated the look of forever, reflected in the candlespark of ‘tough–to–take-on’ mirror, and there, lessened in the degree of out there tomb sigh I drank, revelled, met the gate and shimmered. We have this time now, silent and perplexed, we reflect and refract while pausing to reflex, ancient summertime of tidings untold and glimmering essence in this syringe of continuum, space and all that, decisions don’t matter at first bait and flat.

stop.

this is not my nightmare, the relationship and wake up in a mix master now that the lightning’s unsure, and even sullied I caught it dreaming on for want of words to decipher me and crystallise the mixture soughted, unrepented and demented, a prince of folly dictation as the race prepares its shore, I had a relapse in cognisance in virtue with it all, the amnesia of the forgotten, where are they amidst this whore

of sensation

on sensation

of sensation,

tax the poor to make them fight and build up right or fright and crumple me,

diligent weeper

wait for ever flawed.

Nicolee Ferris 

2000