Brown leaves, not unlike lovers
curl and twine in dry beauty,
a fallen nest in her hair -
in the thin snows of the mind, there are
locked away
deep, broken openings,
smothered in darknesses, eager to live
Corpses of coracles, bone-sails,
ammonites, weather-bleached -
such small unspoiled deaths
Eyeless fish captured in clay,
flora that is fauna, stars that opened
and once curled 'round our fingers,
creatures that are vessels, living brains
in the guise of corals,
macroscopically dreaming their brief lives away
Eager mouths and hot throats,
voracious jaws that snap but
catch only phosphorescence and
lost musical notes
She tires of remorselessness
always catching her breath,
cooped up like a magpie in a cage
wanting to open the door and let the dreams come
to allow the bird to hop about under the eaves, free
to scratch at fallen leaves, and drink deeply
of night's raven colours
Parting Gift
İcrisstiena




4 old applause
