you cold cold girl
you south heart
caramelled with nicotine
drunk on commuter's sweat
dressed in grey clouds and matching sea-skirt
why are you mean to me?
I am a flesh of town-warmth,
My capillaries unbroken by wanderlust.
Sedate and calm I am
like a housewife's afternoon.
How will I lay my peaceful vessel
on your flurrying shoulders?
Your Irish coffee rakes its nails
against my humble steel.
I look for conversations
on your tumultuous Arabian lips
but receive a nauseating silence instead
Your parachutes retch at me.
The rugged crags by the sea
that breathe frigidly at dawn
know nothing of natural death:
they lose lovers by day the way earth loses heat by night.
I won't take up too much of your time.
I'll return to where I came from.
All I ask, is while I'm here,
Allow me to peel off
your leper scabs of indifference.
An ounce everyday.
I'm sure your flesh is the same as mine underneath.