Breathing Out

This is an interval, ein Augenblick
Philp K. Dick

Before your lake – we stood naked
and overconfident in such ease –
having lost our cold distrusts
in earlier bared dips and slow strokes

Your surrounding land is disconnected
through every minute by our staying afloat
as we mark our desire path of currents
with briefly sunken bubbles

Over that unmeasured depth of secrets
below my grabbable limbs
you whisper – again – of being taken
and my fear of drowning is reawakened

There is a dry patch on your neck
that emits a hazy whiff of chlorine
There are no known medical conditions
to explain your chemical sweat

You break the surface from your dive
as if expelled by buoyant hate
having brushed my shrunken parts
whilst playing with my sinking fears

It takes seconds for your eyes
to open – birthed in that brief ooze
of broken tensions – we have no rope
to pull us from our uncharted abyss

Timings

You have chosen your strapped seat
to sit at – as you put out to sea

with bright paint and long blades –
to be pulled around buoy set points –

then to be steered without tipping
under rare blade clashes and shouts

but always matched to find a balance –
It is only in wished-for millpond conditions

with the most fabulous sunset
and equal drifts of morning stillness

that everything fits and clicks to timings
Enjoy that sweet run of symmetrical effort

Your Dog Leash

As your Anacreon
I still say –
Keep on making
common mistakes

Dear Philomedes
do not let them
now burden you
with their regrets

They will pull on you
like my sculpting string –
binding you – stinking –
buried in another’s bed

stuck between sex work
and rattled corporate travel –
amid that hot seethe
in their holy places

Admit your error –
as it is if their praise
Your family are your enemy
by those cries of pain

found in child birth’s
one-sided game
It was handed down
by your foul-mouth mother

who uses the N-word
far too freely
I will not write out
her sparkling excuses

I seek my pleasures –
no had-I-wist words –
before a rogue seed
takes my ill-held throat