Detour

I saw you

Naked

Your scars

Your festering wounds

Your whites, blacks, reds and blues

The mountains and the valleys

Your seas and your skies.

I saw you

Inside

Goo and stone

Placid lakes and stormy oceans

The open rafters, the boarded doors.

I touched you

Soft and hard

Your chords, your nerves

Your smoothness, your bumps.

I smelt

The horrors and the victories

Your sweat and your blood.

And I heard

The screams, the moans

Gasps and your groans

Through your fingers and your eyes

I heard a jarring melody.

I sneaked in

To your hollows and your brimming cups

The length and breadth

I navigated without  a map.

And I left your overpopulated town

With its forced company

And its unbecoming sanctity

Dissappeared into the dark

Of grey territories.

Just another road sign

A diversion from the highway

To the concrete consolation of the grinding gravel

From your marshland carnival.

And left behind half a mind.

The rest comes easy.

Margin Love

Back again to haunt

Me in my territory, you

Forgot your way around

My town – melting

Time and colours.

There you are, in the corner

On the margins, silent.

A dark shadow – melting

Into nothingness, as I turn

To look at your features, dissolving

Into the surroundings.

Against the wall, by the table

Dark bulb overhead, casting light

Ghostly and red – melting

Into a pool of

You, stranger.

And stranger.

A warbling rock song, some leather,

Kohl and a seedy bar, and

You sulking in the corner.

A damp dusk, some garden path

And a polite exchange of words with

A shadow already

Melting into the darkness.

Mundane radio alarm

And blue black is blinding white.

Four unread messages and one missed call.