Kintsukuroi (Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with seams of precious metal-thus creating “imperfect perfection”)

We chase the fruit of the sun
To the end of the world
A numinous and talon torn sky
Shredded strips of red rag
Sadistically smashed jaffa and gems
Which clot and cloy in floured glue
Elongated curds
Fallen ladders

A stubborn actor that
Parts the stage unhurried

The carob cordial horizon
Dark and drunk with light
Finds a stoner’s appetite
To swallow an exhausted sun

The old king bows
Losing his crown as always
Leaving distant diamonds on wave caps
Glittering in the open carpetbag of dying day

Free and curious
And beautiful as her soul

The sea waits
For the last guests to leave

Sinews and snorts of cappuccino foam spat
Across the blurred and broken kaleidoscope
Of tortoiseshell shallows
Here a stegosaurus grazes just below the surface
His rocky plates curl out to the point
In the black and bold of ancient shadow

We are older now
The rocks far apart
But in my mind I jump them with ease
Even with her on my back

We land on the shore
Leaving cookie cutter footfalls
On brittle broken candy
Our adventure soon
Crumbs swept under the tongue of the moon

Memories caressed by the husky cinnamon breath of dusk
Brash and bluesy
Words unsaid bite bitter on the breeze
Salt stuck to my lips

Ironic gulls suspended on wires
Hang in regal vermillion
Their barbed and sulphur calls mock my silence

Punk plants murmur behind us
Mohawks shake in doubt and empathy
Atop lumbering, slumbering
Sleep talking dunes
Whose flesh we puncture
To warm our thin toes

She looks up at me
Emerald silk satin eyes
As always and ever my heart skips
It cannot be her
But it must be
For here I am
Everything I ever wanted to be

Chocolate hair
In chaos cascades
Over peach brandy shoulders

The beauty within
Always escaping her
Spilling out
Mango and musk

Under the sticky sweet and sour sky
In this
Our lonely, only freedom

She offers her hand
Our fingers don’t quite fit
They never have
Our knuckles knobble and knurl
And disagree
In ironic almost

But our hearts hold and hammer
In bonds beyond touch
Seams of gold poured through the cracks and frailty
Humbling and hungry its glow
Sealing the share of our dreams
Binding the strings of our souls
Holding back our snakes and spiders

I pat the blanket down around her feet
She wriggles her toes under the sand
And smiles as they pop out
The lines at her eyes
Remind me how many times she has
She laughs at the noise I make
The growl
That is really a sigh

There is a whisper not wind
The breeze drops to dapple
The ocean dulls
It is time
As always and ever
My heart sinks with the drowning day

I softly slip my arm from behind her
It pleads to return
The feeling brand new
And forever
But the bulb begins to blink and blacken
Time sends the hounds
And beats the bushes

Our lonely
Waning light
Illumination yet

As always and ever
I kiss her hand
Those fingers that do not fit
Humble me
An ache
No one else can understand

I lift her from the sand
Feather light we fall
Tumbleweed to the shore
Silverfish of seventeen and seventy
Breathless and brave
Laughing aloud at the universe
At everyone but us

We run
In rags and riches
Horrible and beautiful
In honest love beyond the scope of measure
Nothing more
Nothing less
Than us

On weary and wind peppered legs we fly
Away from what might have beens
And should have dones

Towards hell yeahs and everywhere
As always

Towards the never setting sun

For Kerrie



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