A week in Rome. Part one.

The air in Rome is dirty. I can feel it weighing on my chest. Each breath heavy with the fumes of busy city life. I realise how spoiled I am to have grown up in the country with air clean and crisp like cut glass. A man in workman’s trousers, a thin puffer jacket, and a blue baseball cap, sharpens knives collected from the surrounding restaurants and cafes in the boot of his car. The grinding noise blends into the hubbub of sirens, car engines, and motorbikes busying the street below. We are on the first floor of the apartment block we are staying in, in Via Silvestri. Opposite us, varieties of pine and palm trees, grow up taller than the blocks of flats they lean close to. Down on the street, a man wheels three crates, overflowing with rocket, around the corner. Matthew is working on his paper for Friday. We drink espresso, with a bowl of olives and cold cured meats that we bought yesterday from a local delicatessen, between us. In an hour or so, we will take a tram to the centre of Rome, and begin exploring…

Brave

Blood in my mouth,
arteries stuck between teeth.
A triple bypass
and I’m still choking.

Fingers scrape away flesh
to find a hollow.

Bones bend in
piercing pulmonary absence.
Continue reading

Ignorance was bliss

I sow the seeds of doubt
in your mouth
but you spit them back out.
Life is not a
dot to dot
A B C
there are no steps
to make this passage easy.
I can’t be Continue reading

The Witching Hour

We are the calm
before the storm.
The quiet
in the disquiet.
The moments
inbetween
falling apart
and being reborn.
We are the flux Continue reading

Find me

Words jar
threatening scars.
Half sentences
beginnings
letters turn to ash
and clash with
hesitation
negation
and
frustration. Continue reading

Unphased

You think I’m afraid?
I am brazen.
I will not falter
to walk the walk
of Continue reading

Monday

Emotion writhes under my skin
as sobriety kicks in.
I feel my function
fuck up
and
fuck away.
I am angry.
Can you hear me Continue reading

Untitled III

Volatile,
I am ripped by wind
and shaken
port side
into the sea.
 
You peel off my layers
until I am
bone bare.
 
Is this what you wanted?
 
To see cartilage
shipwrecked on the bed,
sheets torn and soaked with sweat?
 
I can scream a storm,
bite like thunder
lightning flash you fear
teeth sinking deep
into blue-black waters
where eyes roll back
sea surf white.
 
I can fuck like fire,
red hot
skin peels
and blisters
 
                 blossom,
 
                 like snowdrops,
                 stagnating the air between us,
                 our chests heavy,
                 breath
                                  stuttering.
 
 

Sapiosexual

Two glasses of wine
plus the meeting of minds
and I am wet.
Intelligence oozes from your
tannin stained mouth,
soaking my cerebral muscles.
Knee knocking
I am destabilised by
Plathian-Hughes brutality.
I quake for that
intellectual stimulation.
I am undone
by the scope of your mind,
the way that you think.

Untitled II

Chest choked
I look the other way.
Feet fall
and we fall
into awkward strides.
Silence breaks open
the ribcage steaming hot.
Words force us
to confront and stitch the cuts.
Mud caked boots,
my bitten tongue bleeds.
I cried in the Teifi,
but found salt in the Tregynon breeze.