“Sailorman’s Hymn”

Perched on a yellow line,

a key wedged under her tongue.

She’s waiting,

for what I do not know.

She’s surrounded,

by bottle brush tails,

and burnt orange coats.

Plenty of suitors,

come to play,

their throats wrapped in fluorescent scales.

But she is still in the dark.

There was this man,

you see,

a brave thing.

He was the lock to her key.

 

“Holding the Man”

What do you say?

Will you run away?

With me, in you hand-me-down car?

I know a place, I promise we’ll be safe,

no one will see.

Your father knows, and so does mine.

Welcome to the unemployment line,

so long as we’re together.

I bought you a ring today,

and as the woman boxed it away,

she asked me who it was for.

As you can imagine, I was shown the door.

I understand, why being different is such a cause for concern.

Still I yearn, to take you, my darling, to Italy.

Where I will dance in the dawn with you,

and hold your hand in public.

Where you will guide me down the sand,

and away from dry land.

We’ll float, side by side,

inviting the tide,

to our wedding.

We are playing a game,

in their eyes, a false declaration, a schoolboy crush.

But my sight only falls on you.

My love, my husband.

I don’t need anyone’s permission.

Because when I kiss you,

I taste the stars.

My hands start to shake.

I grab onto you,

as our prophet delivers his final words.

I can feel your heartbeat,

as quick as a hummingbird’s.

Then nothing, as you turn to look at me.

I guess Italy will have to wait,

for something less ornate.

But we will stay together.

I won’t leave you.

It’s got a hold of you now, my dear.

But I still have that smile you gave me,

your beautiful laugh.

I replay them in my head,

as your lips see red,

and the ocean steals you away for good.

It is in Italy that I will be misunderstood.

Lying in a golden glen,

holding you,

time and again.