The low murmurs of your laugh,
The sensuality of your language,
Cultivate slowly piercing ache in all moments;
I forget to stitch the longing of my bosom,
Torn open by your aqua & tobacco fragrance,
I forget breathing,
And I forget buttoning my gown.
When the wild roses, grown outside
Knock at the glass of the window,
The plump half-moon of your bottom lip flares,
Plagues the entirety of time
And what’s broken by it,
I forget chaining the urgency, dancing in my gait,
I forget talking,
And I forget my face, my own body.
Your name inundates the soul,
Breaches all sanity embankments
You teach me to taste the wound of eternity,
I forget not to be paralysed,
And I forget to honour the distinctions,
I forget I’m a monotheist.