I didn’t touch you

for months and weeks

and it grew cold

yet bright and dry

in those shining mornings

we would fly through

the world, rounding on

rock shelves and

my heart lifted as the

ache set in deeper

feet cruel and

whispering to stop please

why oh why can’t you

listen when we speak

throwing you down

in sacrificial streak

like gravel, like blood, like steak

ignored until a louder voice

must shriek and tear

away tissues and strings

destruction looms

if only you’d touched me

sooner, soothed or

seen my toil

we might not be in

this awful spoil

 

Recording of ‘Streak’ https://on.soundcloud.com/pnvXB