Receiver

Receiver (26th June 2008, 12.34pm)

Your eyes, fragile blue, wilting over
a frozen smile, lips locked in anger,
unable to alter.

You can’t, quite, bring yourself to move,
ground-rooted, motionless to disprove
what must be a lie.

My love, flounders in the pool of gilt
guilt, molten truth nudges at your toes
trying to move you.

I speak, soundless words of protest,
for I can’t quite believe myself either
now I’ve spilt it.

Your hands, make fists, then relax
another broken television might be
the consequence.

You are, more than, the sum of my
parts, built up to this statue I cannot
bow down to now.

I am, not what I set out to become,
feathers unstuck, wings damaged,
oil-slicked bird.

We are, set apart from time and space,
the look on your face says more than
articulation.