When she left me
I was left
in my loft room.
Wooded walls were
a pine brown tomb
and though I called
from my sleep
through the ether
to her hallowed halls
only sometimes
did she remember
and then
we talked.

And I descended
into the pit
and the blood red 
it flowed big
and the cigarettes
I smoked all.

I was sick.

But somehow
I drifted on
through time
and all that grew,
the ups
and the downs,
the downs I knew,
downs were common...
but the ups,
they were few.

Then another walked in
and in her I knew
that this time,
this time,
time ran anew.

And we played
a long game
of make believe love
living entwined
hands clasped
wearing gloves
as we weren't open
though we shared
all that we could
and that calf skin
was baby flesh
not thick enough… 
and though paired
with close touch
and both saying yes
we two knew
that that yes
that we shared
would one day,
be too much.

But together
before the parting 
we built a space.
And that place
is a shell
lined with wood.
And in it I remain
although I could
chant some other
lively refrain
and I should
but the blood
it grows inside me
and the smoke
it consumes me
and I repeat
the meat of the days
that I spent
when the heat
left me. 

And there’s no new,
just repeating,
it’s what we do,
so life depleating,
but within the spark,
it’s so refreshing
and oh so
within walls of wood
I’m loosing the good
and all that I should
and the dark 
it’s encroaching...

but new refrains,
they're developing.

We’ll see
where that leaves me
with the wood?
with the leaves?
within the trees?
Surely not again
with new blood...