the clock in the kitchen has stopped

at a quarter to nine. i have discovered

‘the garden’. my playlists have taken

a blue turn. lonely in the tent when it falls

over. you’re standing on a cliff

with your back to me. nothing unique.

emotions temporary. flowers brief.

the stars look deliberately esoteric,

the moon particularly

at sea. i’m on my knees

at the bottom of your hill.

i’m in disguise

as a gargoyle.

the woman i want to be

wears mother-of-pearl

& is cruel as silk sheets.

i don’t have time for love

but for you i’d drop everything –

please let me.