fraser, brooke
all shapes and colours
rolled and stained in aging hands
sculpted explosions
histories unfold
our jackson pollocked earth turns
a silent witness
lonely as silent
poets bequeath best attempts
romanticising
the brutality
of the ages and of us
avarice and lust
love and death
and death and love
brutal romance
the silver thread
the sharpened knife
a spinning slow-dance
i can't remember before
warmth in the veins
lead in the core
you're dripping with gold
mine is more interior
yours is sinking you
men at attention
devouring a drowning fleet
epaulettes of charm
a silver thread
a sharpened knife
in a spinning slow-dance
breath in the lungs
blood on the door
and i want to sing
over them and into them
what can't be unsung
over you and into you
washing of wounds
won inner wars