A deluge of pure expenditure:
nitrogen, snow and angel sweat
measure of wingspan
wouldn’t feel so out of place 
in a vast cometarium,
telluria and lunaria 
two genders of celestial device
ahead of their time, demonstrating
the tail end calamity.
You write superlative letters 
to hide in the icebox, I live alone
in the dead mall of my epoch.
Lucent, condensed, echo-bodied
polishing tachycardia 
porcelain vox, like everything in our shyness

orbiting syllables at tensile scale
needs a sugar fix of pitch-shift.
Nightcore accelerates the narcissi, listening 
deep in soil of the selfsame
song was over too soon. Her data mosh
coaxing the dead from their cosy toxicity.
Petulant, premature spring
shatters the concrete.
Been thinking a lot about silver lately. 
The meteor was all the more beautiful for being here
having us held, sporadic, gifted. 
I made a digital nest for it.

……….. Kirsty says, ‘sad is a word to overuse.’
It was a popstar invented temperature.
Pears tasted chemical. I wish you could 
untrust biography, gaia crying
tech failure, to be sure
the past is a flight material of 
every time it rains 
my body of work 
goes into tremolo
meadowing
more and more
paralanguage
touching the shortest 
day of the year
I feel nothing
tipped to a certain stress 
there is so much left to score.

I give it to you, to whom I was given. 
Reflective mist.
Time is no longer in our hands. 
Working attention’s harvest device
lavender encrypted,
flat-warming polyrhythms 
of all slumber premiere
imperfect progression like 
god only knows 
it rains.

Wish I could bond repair my comrades.
We have been spiralling a long, sad time
with the animacy of slow burning crystals, popped 
ears of nebulous ringing,
improvised addressee.

Lyn says there is no avant-garde of love. 
The twilight of what comes to pass 
epistolary hotspot 
could do without having to do something.
But who came first?
Someone on the radio claims 
the future is unknown territory.
And just like that, you’re gone.
Jet-lagged on winter solstice,
I wasn’t bodied to sew myself up in the sleep-
stitch all-night cognitive slipway.
I spent it sobbing, 
orange gorged,
surgical.
Chapped lip
dressed myself in sweet kinship
time within time to kill time
on a permo
I loved lying there, terrified
the song wasn’t mine
to care or caress.

……….. If a dream comes
put a civil leaf in your mouth. 
Call it little cataclysm. 
I see cultivars of unrequired beauty
watching you sleep. You slept 
coalesced in damage.
We should sleep for each other. 
I doctored all thought for want of word
stimulant, cinderfull, envois tendering
the hurt and listening, candy-
flipping rain.
An error nerve jumps in our fernery.
And you are so sure!
Moodboarding our kiss goodbye at the bridge
catch breath 
it doesn’t have to be recent, uploaded
gently at geological tempo 
and every rainbow belongs to my dead friend.
I love the opalesced circuitry 
we glossed with pauses.
Pencil-scented, depressed,
I felt myself feeling inside what a shout was
watching them swerve on the road.
If we can’t hover 
canopy, all beyond
euphoria, cloud cover
still parenthesis to humane
condition, falling
long enough to freeze infinity
by the way we gush light
I can’t deceive you.
Crestfallen morphology.
We haven’t learned how to live again.
No one’s gonna hurt you.
They deleted the length 
and breadth of their messages.
A superstar using emetine
to throw up all the time
melted her heart muscle.
We still haven’t learned to live. 

……….. Evolutionary glitch of wasting
yourself for some other person. 
Not crying to supplement kissing 
I was born in the year of In Utero
so it seems, Cass says
the thing about this loss
is it brings up the childhood trauma
of how unresolved you are.



There’s all this mud
clustering screentime
and lockdown Castorp’d all of us
to pale, snow-blown nostalgia,
sickly to look at the sky’s
lackadaisical tesseract
disappearing in a foamy poetry.  
When I come off these pills it will be winter
again, if it ends; if we still haven’t learned
to live. No one 
baby will hurt you. 



Who will they become or return to?
Taking the willow’s temperature.
Tears on my iPhone, turned on silent 
gasoline lullaby
nourished a possibility
that none of this was told
altogether the trees 
showy with goldenness
starting to experience emotions again.
Like when we climb into the red-
threaded spiderweb 
of another plague year
and we activate the starlight
stimulus package
in thermotaxis.



Hair is my only
form of ipseity.
Here a leaf fell rage, flux
compassion, there 
a pastoral gratitude 
the grief flower 
poised within sexual premise.
Waterfalls held up with Alice bands. 
We could just die to not answer the question
wetsweet nightingale vapid singing the morning
I’d rather hold you. 
Cold in the world.
The internet is over
heaven and earth, the risk 
is that you won’t die after all 
fluorescing goodbye 
I love our big talks in
telephonic commoning. 



If the mind, of contrapuntal synapse
had known its grammar as a 
test site for crisis, 
ten thousand panicking hours.
Your voice is every colour.
Aura clots.
All the blood 
rushed to my head at sunset.
Needing a fever to keep warm
in the never-ending winter
silver laces my Raynaud’s gloves
and I am sucking the glycerine 
antifreeze
while lights keep flashing
in this push
we slack also to ice
and strangeness found
in your t-cells
all that remains.



Precarity
of cryosphere
bites from impossible
summary policy.
It is unequivocally 
related loss, 
archive narcosis
glacier
retreat to grace.
Acidification
of primal impulse
drives the young 
hibernal bus.
Give us 
a silver loop. 



Lover Earth,
what is reading?
Deepfake lyrical replies
an aching machinery of dreaming
the supplicant hologram of our livelihood
in soft asynchrony 
I hope the future was fine
as your hand in marginalia
slants towards stardust.

……….. Could I have this language for life
coveted in other dimensions,
each immeasurable 
taking my alien hormone
opioid of amazing shimmer
straight from a coupon parallel universe
still falling to remember before,
like I know how it is
flowing from blossom
show of unblossom 
a poison sponge,
one for the equinox:
we should’ve done this sooner.