a tiny window gathers the world
echoes morning’s rush of life
amazingly, my fingers trace your carved shoulder
like they have never known geometry
somebody somewhere is getting coffee,
walking the dog, dressing for a long day –
but not we, whose worlds have just collided
under the gaze of a tiny window
that no one is looking through
because we are beyond ourselves now
and I know this by the way your hair
threads lightly across the bow of your cheek
by the way every gesture becomes music
and because when you smile I am lost
again, you have taken my watch, and found forever in the bargain –
I pretend to be offended because my world is now upside down
and I can’t understand why everything else isn’t falling
drawn inexorably by the velvet honey of your eyes
this must be what yes is
this must be the future twining round our ankles
lacing up our hands in unspoken prayer
while beyond our reach the coiled leopard of time
anchors claws to earth for its inevitable leap
why should time be linear anyway?
for it is the timeless in us that is now rejoicing
in this spiraling pressing of bodies and souls
upwards into the long arms of the sky
through a tiny window

1w


a tiny window gathers the world
echoes morning’s rush of life
amazingly, my fingers trace your carved shoulder
like they have never known geometry

somebody somewhere is getting coffee,
walking the dog, glancing at a watch –
but not we, whose worlds have just collided
under the gaze of a tiny window
that no one is looking through

because we are beyond ourselves now
and I know this by the way your hair
threads lightly across the bow of your cheek
by the way every gesture becomes music
and because when you smile I am lost

again, you have taken my watch, and found forever in the bargain – 
I pretend to be offended because my world is now upside down
and I can’t understand why everything else isn’t falling
drawn inexorably by the velvet honey of your eyes

this must be what yes is
this must be the future twining round our ankles
lacing up our hands in unspoken prayer
while beyond our reach the coiled leopard of time
anchors claws to earth for its inevitable leap

we care not of its landing
for it is the timeless in us now rejoicing
in this spiraling pressing of bodies and souls
upwards into the long arms of the sky
through a tiny window

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