lovesong of the shellfish

funny creature- you
Of the earthen skin and beautiful mind,
wasted in the salt
we counted the lights of the fishing boats
on a moonless starless evening
not so long ago
when the south west winds came calling in their sunday best
I'd go
But my shoelaces are tied to yours
like Dunne's compass points
round and round in circles we go
in futile continuum
could it be that
maybe
when we spoke of The Dead One
he found his way to us
through us
through you
We joke too much,
weddings and XXL white dresses
Love in the time of cholera- no, typhoid and an addiction
Your mother was never wrong
is she now, though?
but what if the cards and the lines on our palms
were never wrong either?
your many cliched limericks
they emerge, today, as i write and cannot rhyme,
in perfect synchronised time
spools of film run through my head
an afternoon spent pretending towatch gangsters shoot each other silly
an evening spent playing Pierre and Marianne Renoir
an hour spent singing, an hour spent lamenting
an hour spent matching names and faces
people and places, the mosquito chases
zapping singeing
two twisted souls killing defenceless blood- suckers
is it any wonder the world called us mad?
cocooned, you are
i strain at the leash
your fate was written on my forehead
do i dare fight the Verse?
but wait- you fear those shadows no more
so we wait. and watch
sipping sickly sweet tea and bitching nastily
mine own, mine own
if you died, i'd.