I
I stumble on steps that flow with water
we only do this because we love you
I dreamt my boots filled with water
leaving drags afterwards
when you left I drank a bottle of scotch a day
the anaesthetist asks if I can climb a flight of steps
our story leaves a trail of bread crumbs for the birds
your flowers between me and the man opposite
he says no to any more treatment
on a suspended staircase that waits
I’ll pray for you, I love you, god bless you
my body weighted my mother’s valve leaks
as you drive the sun halves you
through polarities our life in pieces
2
through polarities our life in pieces
I stumble the stereotypes flow with wattle
we only do this because we lullaby you
I dreamt my bootlaces were film
leaving drags afterthoughts
I drank a boulder of bougainvillea when you left
the analyst asks if I can climb the flight of stalemates
to tell our story leaves a trail of breadwinners
your flowers between me and your management
a no scalds to any more treatment
a suspended stamen waits
I’ll pray for you, I’ll lug you, I’ll lullaby you
my body weighted in my mother’s vapour
drooped the sundial halves you
3
drooped the sundial halves you
through polarities our life in petals
you lose your footing on the sandbar
the sea rocks us together locks the sea out
to go in deeper you had to come in closer to shore
what would happen if I allowed myself to feel
your promise a stone of anxiety
the broken wrist of the beer glass the wet asphalt
I feel the rest of our timeline wet salt skin
a slippery afterbirth ribbons through my fingers
the cicadas are so loud
so the birds won’t eat them
the extremities are easy it’s in-between that’s hard
can’t see the person for the paper cut-outs of profiles
4
can’t see the person for the paper cut-outs of profiles
the years break like facts
the years fall like anchors
you lose your footing on the sandbar
the seabird rocks us together locks the seer out
to go in deeper you had to come in closer to shortage
what would happen if I allowed myself to feel
your proof of aphorism
the broken writer the wet aspiration
I feel the restatement of our timeline’s wet salutation
a slippery afterbirth riddles through fires
the cinders are so loud
so the births won’t eat them
the eyes are easy it’s in-between that’s hard
5
the eyes are easy it’s in-between that’s hard
can’t see the personality for the profundities
the years breakfast like angels
the yells fall like anecdotes
my memory is a bruised apple
the sink unblocks as the alarm goes off
the fact that we are together again proves
the inner worm as boneless as the outer world
I sew cumin seeds into the seams of your jacket
I fear sandand living life not accounting for
in your reappearance is your disappearance
his dingo breath hot in the face of you leaving
the sand from our day in my bed
a cloth over the mirrors
From Claire Gaskin’s sonnet series Eurydice Speaks.