Breathing through the lines
Echoing across
The outer door
And the swallow shaped clouds
Each life builds
Like a wall
Branching out at interludes
Starting off
Somewhere near the South Pole
When you were a wanderer
Lying with orchestral cells
Of caves
Fighting for food
Each night.
A sickly babe
Born to a
Rich nobleman’s family
Not long after
The Romans fled
And drown in a river
Like a unwanted kitten,
A forgotten soldier
Loyal to Cromwell
Who gave no quarter
And died in
A blacken inn
On the verge of recruitment
In a vicious mugging.
The wife of a pirate
Whose name I can’t pronounce
At the turn of
The 18th century
In Cornwall
Who was hung
For a crime she didn’t do.
A Soldier whose
Name I won’t repeat
Who fought all day
At the battle of Alamo
In 1836
And killed himself
In disgust of what he did.
Breathing through
Each of their experiences
And emotions
My soul falls
Into line with them
Across hungered words
And laboured ships
Across the depths
Of broken memories
Sinking under frozen grounds
And pocket marked voids
Pressing compounded feelings
Into your thoughts
Like secrets in tiny safes.
Clawing caressed emotions
In mumbled
And forgotten tongues
Curving into thoughts
Dancing in your sleep
Building on each life
One after the other.
