Window. Window. Shatter.

I

Our prince.
Heroic, Herculean one.
Love love and atmosphere,
breaking out of these billowing clouds
that take us as the light shows us.
Spotlight.
Crafted against models of
chic
and cheekbones.
Fingers shake as they right the songs
of long lost loves, stars
and tumbling leaves.
Streets hold bleeding girls
and busking boys,
race and chase in dizzy streams
of blue and silver.
This orchid likes to wilt,
shine and shine,
firing out sudden beats
in this mid-winter heartbreak.
You, you, Hercules,
Adonis,
chanelling spirits and sceptics,
wonder and fabrications,
wrap contradictions around your tongue
and swallow them whole.
Find midnight amongst
my letter-strewn room.
(Twigs and twigs,
  fall fall fall)


II

Call upon the long-dead poets
that sparkled with pain
and burned with ambition.
Strange, this city, bizzare.
Follow the cars on the motorway,
the night sky is your guide to
  get out.
We fear closure and seek the
beginning, looking through
the garbage of all the singers who
cocoon us in beauty.
Scatter scatter,
little school of fish.
Brilliant boy,
hold your head up high
and search for the rest of your
sun-touched life.
Up we go in a swoon,
billow and blossom, bloom,
lay down here with us.
It's no longer grace and innocence,
but magic, shine, bright.
Bigger stages, you must
stand and pretend it has all
been solved through the years.
Hold it all close,
you'll need that smile one day.
You will need forgiveness
and comfort.
Until then, my love,
we'll stand on chairs
and lie on floorboards,
blocking the way of
whoever may pass.