Heavenly
pulsing pale waves of mist
kiss, bless,
these distinctions
as fear parades these walkways
as we fade into the rain which seeps through the holes
in the fabric of my heart;
we are torn apart
again.

The road forks as,
streetlights shine,
streets stink of fried food
rats scurry into mind.

These are the concrete estates
of the heart.
high-rise cladding
smoulders invisibly.
as seen from the balcony, there is no sea view,
the fabric is torn, broken-backed
like twins in the mirror, like fish lying flat,
side-by-side,
with nothing to see,
and nowhere to hide
we disappear, completely
again.