undernightskies

[undernightskies]

The salvation of rainbows

The thud

of organs stopping still

and the breath in my nose

pausing

as a way out

panic

flying with bat wings

across the night sky.

I know I can drop

to the ground

and it will hold me,

I know,

we are all walking around

with the earth at our back.

Sometimes there is

the salvation of rainbows

to cover us

in prismic beauty;

fractals we are,

and elemental,

garnet-blooded, carbon-hearted.

The edge of our skin,

a cliff, tempting us

to jump.

[undernightskies]

Our souls, crying out

as we speak,

a collective wail,

a deep sea haunting

as tortured as trees,

lost without their leaves.

We pulse with pain,

finding its way

through our throats

the way waves succumb

to the shore.

After all, it is home

where we grieve,

and delight

in the smallest of signs

that we know,

with our full lungs

and our tender minds,

that the walls of our hearts

are made of this.

We are lovingly mended

by our dinner table sighs

and our glances

that carry light

like fireflies refusing

to die.

We are bold, and afraid

and we long with the parchedness

of deserts

to be small again.

The tiny nest

on my back porch,

and you, flying lightly

from limb, to limb.

[undernightskies]

[undernightskies]

Safeguarding

The delight of soft air,

the sweet whiteness of fur

against the bend of my leg.

Breathe slowly,

like a cloud moving

subtly

across the sky.

Hum, if you let yourself,

a reminder that you

are soulful

even if your lungs

are a still pond

where dragonflies alight you

like dangerous visitors.

I carry myself

with the gentleness

bestowed on those

new born,

and I laugh at the way

my dogs stand guard

like sentinels,

our bed an island fortress

we sink ourselves into.

[undernightskies]

I am somewhere liminal

in the spaces between clouds,

in the crevices where the stones

don’t quite meet.

There is nothing there,

except a long

exhalation,

a sigh, an absence

of much

at all.

I hear myself speak

through muffled sounds

like someone outside the door

asking to be let in.

I ask myself what I need

and it is the long slow breaths

of you

and the safety of your arms

and the quietness

of us.

[undernightskies]

The day was powdery,

soft and gentle like pillows,

and the air felt like the breath

of a lover, whispering.

Leaves as light as fingertips

brushed my cheek

as I glimmered

and glistened.

Days like this

are hope

hidden in heartbreak

that pulse in my throat

a reminder

that I am my own universe,

not a distant star

verging on

exploding.

[undernightskies]

Think of it

as a little

death.

One moment’s

erasure,

the way

skywriting

shrinks

and disappears.

Think of myself

as a character

this or that

happened to.

Think of us

as a dream,

we didn’t wake

from.

[undernightskies]

That time I fell headfirst into

the comfort of laughter

raining around us

like bubbles.

And the baked biscuit smell

of your freshly washed skin,

and the small touch of

a dog’s paw, gentle

like a nurse watching over you

at night.

And the sun

so incredibly loyal

to keep us in its sights.

Yes, these are the tiniest of loves,

and I mean it

in the sense that small things

can be kept with you

forever

in the cells that make us

as immaterial as starlight.

[undernightskies]

[undernightskies]

#treesatnight ✨

[undernightskies]

I love the way you burn through me like hot wine. I am tinged apricot by my bloodline, warmed by harsh mango heat, a comfort in the cool depths of despair. Yesterday I felt the stars droop low in the sky as if the weight of brightness lay heavy upon them. I paint my nails tangerine to help me carry the dazzling glow of sunsets wherever I go.

[undernightskies]

I feel it come over me like losing the feel of your bones. I am jellyfish and puppy weak, as though I would fall through your hands if you tried to hold me. I am a wraith when I am like this, almost invisible. If I look in the mirror I may be gone.

[undernightskies]

The wide warm sky with splashes of torn cotton, makes us small, like little fish. I think you must have felt like Jesus, the way your feet touched the sea, and maybe the day turned grey at your baptismal surrender. I dream, there was sparkling on the waves, little sprinkles of joy around you, phosphorescence in your eyes, like your voice with its way of singing and maybe you even hummed, on the way down.

[undernightskies]

Somewhat akin to tiredness, this ache soaked into my bones, like a sponge steeped in alcohol. I am numb from the lack of sustenance, a nice feeling, to be emptied out. I am elemental, atomic, now I am almost nothing. Thin as a breeze, as a nightgown barely covering, slight like silk, maybe even only, a puff of air. They describe it as gnawing, these pains, this deep knowing, that I could be half of me. I foraged within myself, among the new green of budding leaves and found the twigs of disaster that I hung my reflection upon. And the hoarded parts of me, that desired more and more. I rummaged within and found myself lessened like cotton candy after one small bite. What if I was happier to sate this clambering hunger with cream drunk love? I cannot. My ribs rise and fall to the beat of denial and dissolution, evaporation, as though we are only clouds.

[undernightskies]

I etch myself into you, the way reeds make lines in stones by the patience of water. My tears, are inaugural rains at the start of each season, flooding myself with turbulence, like the wings of unsettled geese. We are new grass, buds in May, sun rays on treetops, burnt edges of fresh toast, skin rounded like comfortable corners, juice with the lid off, freesias, oh and the other night, we were a lightning storm.

[undernightskies]

There is a lioness who languors along the length of my spine, stretching herself round my ribs, holding my lungs to ransom. I have a fear of sleeping, but my dog is courageous, his paws held in prayer at the base of my throat. I hold him to me, and breathe him in, my gentle blanket. He is warm, like the comfort of daybreak.

[undernightskies]

The things that heal, and those that don’t. I am alive with the orchids, buds and bees. I talk freely to owls, and lie in packs with dogs, their fur, a deep comfort, better than pillows. But of course, the crawlspace

in the new world next to your heart is home. I tuck my legs under myself and fold like origami. Every way you need me, I am there.