Aqueous humour's not very funny

Neither is how easily we forget

The story of each other's pain

 

Arranged marriages of spirits and the

remnants of deep pain

 

The sky is a plush blue velvet

Its papery clouds are upon it

As if they are lace - the 

Dew glistens on the grass

Like numerous bright eyes looking

Up at the sky

 

The wrong arrangement can be distant,

Can be cold, can be marriage

Between two ghosts

 

Half-blind mouse circumnavigates a cat's shadow,

Cast by barrels on a cellar wall

The one-eyed moggy muses on his strike time.

 

Short and wailing walls, 

A growing body of similar similes:

The raindrops smell of splintered bone.