Sunday, 7 June 2015

Faty's Sing

I like singing to you
When the curtains glow softly
To the night of red and weariness.

They sing along too
The people who live in the trees
The gentle ghouls and witches without claws.

I like singing to you
When the warmth of your fingers
Closes around all frigid draught and monsters.

They sing along too
Wailing fervently, melancholy
You'd think they would make me weep, but no.

I like singing to you
When you make me furious
And blood drops to my bristling collarbones

They sing along too
Begging to claw at your chest, draw
Your heart out and down my barren throat.

I like singing to you
When you forget that I love you
And snip away the tentacles that are our senses

They sing along too
An uncoordinated mob of vain soloists
Gliding from ear to ear, hoping you will hear me.