Seadrinking & Morninglight

To you: restring

In the open sky I have found

A spare afternoon

To getting lost to you (you were not even here)

In the ever ever Septembre

Eventfullness runs longer than a song

Only perfume and tapeworms linger

Getting a bit lost in your summer house

I carry a little jar of whale blood

Those accidental gestures

The loitering dreamcatcher (made of concrete and plaster)

The ribs are ripping off

Tape a butterfly on your collarbone

A millipede on the clouds

Same old song, on and on

Ere the afternoon there's the appearance of five tails

On a roll, on an overpriced fishroll

Have you forgot to close the door again?

The cloth hanger is only skin and bone

And remember the Ikea marionette?

Painted with B&W acrylics?

And the candlehouse without candles

Your house was my world

In all the wilting in-der-weltness

Every remembering is a remember not

You are only interested in nocturnes didn't you?

Misere, Miser. Mise a Mort

Only the third is a marketable lipstick

Read the word, read Zeitung

Glide on with automatik magazine

In the stillness of the storm

In a pitch grey room

We recently heard we cannot speak

Somebody tell me my saccharine

(or is it interpreted)

The house is crestfallen

The house is oceanfloor

The doves had turned to dust

I smear lipstick on my favourite box

The question deserves no answer

All lost strands have deserted

(after acquiring deerskin, sick-leave and payday loan)

To put a bandage on my heart

(the colloquial one, to say the least)

And you life is unstructured like a sugar jar

Someone else's pet pig has tilted the tablecloth

And everyone speaks of pomegranates

Sugarsour, Sugarush, Smokey and Strawberries

The last moonpie belongs to me

By Aran Meredith

07. 2022.