He kissed me till the morning light

He told me that I’d done all right


                                      Laura Marling


No. Morning was still pacing the dark wings

of night with an unlit fag, sweat stains under

her arms and attitude. Method actor morning;

that fag, wrong prop for dagger-face.Dark’s

arse, dark’s seamy ripped bitch of a lining. 

Morning’s waiting with a mardy on; waiting

for your beautiful eyes to open, waiting to ‘ta-

da’ with menace. Pretty one, your whole life’s

asleep. Just let your eyes be stark, strip bare

for morning’s tasteless burlesque. Let your

eyes spread the disease. Morning’s understudy,

I can take over, one foot dangling the fetish shoe,

the other bare. Heel or nude sole? Remember

the photo: foreground, whole and half- bricks,

beyond, the Space Centre like a sliced off thumb.

I sucked that thumb. Bit hard, I think. Or was

that one of your hand –me- down dreams? Duck.

The proper one’s back. You’re flagrant, glaring.

You’re hard -on looks (tastes?) like wax. Such

a lie. Rubble, belly wound. Missing the best

shot. I passed the audition though. She lost. 





Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s