Even from this distance
 
      a space which could occupy
      innumerable beats of a wing which
      could last till the scent of exotic
      perfume stretches languorously
      ‘cross an open room
 
you close your eyes and
Even from this distance
 
your lashes swipe me like a dry claw
I tremble in the hot shade of
my own wordless wonder-
 
your greens and blues and hues
too bright for sight trickle through my
pale hands
 
      you animate me
            on this blank page
      I scream like a mime, my
      face-paint smeared, it riverruns
      towards feet of
 
lonely descent.
 
Even from this distance,
you swipe me like a claw,
           my shirt, my
new white shirt,
in shreds …