Trilogy

In this complex there is no sleep

In the life of the night

Breath falls on unhearing ears and words dig deep inside the flesh

Can’t walk on water but have surely walked in wine

Striving for humility, thinking of fast cars and balladeers

And the feeling underneath

Whilst vanity boils within

Indicators of assumption shared

Hide the schism, hide the fear

When I find my voice

It feels alien to my ear

But when I touch the truth it sings

Echoing in the hollows

Between Ivory and blubber few taboos remain

 but none have claimed me for their own

now we have reached the season of the storms

and I am unoriginal

exempt excommique walking brick paths

watching the chipped masonry float away

we all build our fascias

of stone or flesh

we all squirrel something safe within

but time passes differently here

since that other power breached

and those etched tablets expired an age ago

the titles that defined us, shaped our response, hang in the air,

pretty lies that slash at transformations which shun the frame

the person that I was glows and blurs

the thing that I am becoming moves in spirals

headed south bound