Blue

for Chris and Holly - and Kayleigh

I follow a trail

of broken heels

and torn stockings

to find you,

my right cheek

red raw;

my love

blistering with pain.

To hold you violently,

kiss you deeply,

impart to you

the utter delight and despair

you work

as you pluck me up,

move me about the land.

We dance clumsily,

hold each other up

by our haunches,

drink until drinking’s done,

fight our way into our bed,

sleep till wakeful-spun,

run when waiting comes,

sing the chorus

of our blazing love.

I’ve trudged through pits of cigarette ash;

swum through endless oceans of vodka;

juggled the hot coals of your eyes;

been pierced by your temperament,

your slings and arrows ever sharper,

ever more the narrow.

I’ve breathed the thickest smoke,

sweeter than alpine air,

and I’ve throttled despair.

I follow a trail

of broken heels

and torn stockings,

palm your small feet

like wax pears,

kiss your hair,

show you what I cannot say,

gesture my words away.

We clash like sea and headland,

crumble to the deepest depths

of the bluest love.