for my sister

Speaking
In tongue tied tongues
Dialects from distant memories
Barely whispered through millennia.

I didn’t know how to remember what
we learned, un learned, then
re-learned, and yet
question still.

Older than time, older, than
I
we crossed many
moon lit rivers.
We were running. Always running –
Were we running towards now?

For I can almost remember what we,
forgot to forget, it’s been
made manifest by the magic of this,
life,
that we are left living -
in new flesh
still chasing spirits and
watching stars.
Called by new names
yet still the same,
for your hand still fits into mine,
and the moon still guides us home

We are not friends

We are not friends.
I doubt if we, have ever been
or could be,
now.

My love has turned cold
all ice and gin flowing through my veins
soon made warm by
another.

Time melts away rose coloured reason
illuminating drops of truth.
that let me see, without regret

How illusions made warm enough bedfellows.
How seemingly honest smiles, masked
a selfish heart.
so careless with mine and has willingly
forgotten me.
Forgotten, we.

We are not friends.
I carve this into wintry caves
so one summer day could dissipate
the iceberg of hate
built by memories that construct such harsh descriptions
of love.

Your garden

Each time i bump into
your rose,
joy each morning. I am tickled pink
sweet and heady,
heavy with
surprise at the familiar fragrance
of hope.