failed states

the fairy lights are up
some evenings we visit
the bottom of a whisky bottle

it seems like my 
field of vision 
has forever featured 
the silhouette of
two attentive ears
taut, velvet

a constant jarring 
is at work
like sandpaper 
against my heart
wonder whether 
it will come down to 
making choices between
tempered chocolate
or war-ravaged towns

it's either too little 
or too much

cold sun

one night
when the only colour
painting the canvas
between the earth and the sky
is green
titillating
choreographed

a lone light bulb
casting shadows
of ascending lengths
while she sings of
the cold sun and the chill
of exhales

the heart is better for
the love it feels
the love that tears it apart

paisley

drenched rainy clouds 
hemmed into
the linings of my skirt

greens around me
and my heart
heavy with
the groans of the sky

crying freedom

do you

what do you do
when love starts feeling like
sea salt

home and heartbreak

at some point
how I felt about love
was a song

it was against
rain streaked windows
red and purpled from
street lights reflecting
off of wet roads

it was in smells
that were at once
home and heartbreak

and in the
dusty, forgotten memory
of my mom
bursting into laughter

it was also in
a book I knew
I could never re-read

it's the stuff
that gushes out of my heart
on seeing Milo
comfortable within
awkward angles of my body

in loss
in sights that left me breathless
and in evenings with too much wine in them
love. there was love.