Fallen heavy
Ground thump
Like the footstep
Of some minor god
Shaved like a lamb
A wax solider
Blue lines and black spots
The invisible ink details a story
Of little use but grave danger
And I am sick
So sick of
Looking into a mirror pool
Seeing myself smirking in the
Droplets and reflections
Muscle spasms
And contracted pupils
And a deep-veined shudder from my heart
When no amount of romance
No musical tryst
Will lace up my sores
No coloured magic
Or passionate night alone
With only my instruments
What might one day be enough
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