Love ....and all that stuff

May 1992
Wrapped in sweat, hair, breath, flesh,
after the hard work is over
Sleep, like death creeps.
We, like children, cling to it.

2 March 1993
On a clear and too early
winter afternoon
with the weight
of other's children
on my arms
I can sense the world
stop and look
and the day is simply blown along
down the road.

In the morning I found
myself watching a dog play
in a fountain
and an urge to be clean
surged and bubbled like tears
and the day was blown
along the road.

And then in the secret
dark night of long hours
when the world has closed it's eyes
the day is simply blown
down the road
and I
travel with it.

25 March 1993
Sun on my skin
in the grass
How often my love have the words I love you echoed between us
Air fresh
Everything smelling
impossibly clean
Rippling the air my soul my flesh
Lizards scuttle
up the wall
necks and heads
impossibly beautiful
How long have we woken and clung and slept
Ants running
on my flesh
gently marked
by your touch
How easy it would be my love to close my eyes
and allow the worms to commence their business.

4 May 1993
Today
I remember
fear of the dark,
fear of the drunken
Saturday evening rage,
fear of my rage!
fear that I would never
be beautiful,
fear of dying alone,
lonely.
I remember
first love,
no pleasure.
I remember
first pain.
I remember
our first touch,
wonder,
fear.
Then I remember
this morning,
warm and good,
safe
wrapped around you.
And so,
I remember.