Christian Ward

Distance

There is distance between us
measured not in centimetres

kilometres millimetres or any
of those things you never could

understand. It is in sound - waves
that you cannot plot on a graph

mapped only by a falling tear
or the sudden crash of a fist

against a wall.

Bin

You are looking at me
stuffing objects into your hollow
mouth: old poems, yellowed receipts,
spools of liquorice coloured wire.

Be still as I hold you upside down.
Do not say a word. This is our game
that we play. When we are finished,
it will happen all over again.

But this time you will be in charge.
Empty my pockets. Rifle through
everything I don't need. I am yours
tonight. And tomorrow. And the day after.

© Christian Ward