69 Bones To Heaven
Sometimes words are never enough
They may trickle and tickle the
Sixty ninth bone of my femur mind.
Send your love in an envelope
Lick the paper as if it my cock
Linger, long and lunge
Let your lipstick tattoo my neck
Bite me a new novel
I am so bored reading the words which have been written.
I submit, surrender, seduce
What mood you in today?
If only in De Profundis
You would read as braille
My typewritten cursor to you heart.
As Wilde wrote to Bosie, dead in his cell:
ďThe supreme vice is shallowness.Ē
Even in shallow water
We receive rain fall.
The silence of my past will always lead me to
Meadows, where only bird song turns the
Twist of tongue, alliteration all alone:
Alive and then dead.
No one speaks
Sometimes words are never enough.
There are no regrets left to trace
Pretty words on water-coloured skies
500 women have told their story
Each to each, sentence to ill-conceived sentence
50 Shades of Nothing truly matters
Orange to deepest blue
Please excuse the mixture of hue.
A rainbow flies
It wonít land on guilt hands
I grasp and it slips.
So the flickering candle
I light for my Holy Mother
Is the only womb which hears me.
So when will scars stop burning?
Step aside, leave the stage
For only me and my pain.
Step aside, can you not read the script?
Walk aside, let my cremation begin
Embers to swim in Welsh seas
Despite my universal pleas
Wales has always been my one true love:
So true, tough and tender.
Oh Wales, on your hill sides please allow me to fuck
"fy nghariad yn fy nghadw i"
Sometimes words are enough.
I did it My Way.