The Drought

I choke up with white steam as I look ’round at you,
At your ice-studded tundra; magnificent view –
You’ve got diamonds for bones, and there’s sand in your blood,
But it’s been far too long since the Flood.

There was something you whispered, that rushed in my ears,
This grand mess you encoded in crystalline tears,
While this hot wind that blows me back into your arms
Has died down, to the sweat on my palms.

Since I lost you, my tongue is forbidden to write …
All the sighs that I’ve wept in the heart of the night,
Will stay locked in my mem’ry, in straitjacket tight,
I was licked long before
                                      I had started to fight.

And the truth is I’ve dreamt of a hall full of mirrors,
All swollen with vampires, cool fragments of rivers,
And the haunt of a laugh that flaps wings round my head;

While I sleep, in the deep, on my gossamer bed.