Alexa Greenwood Poems

The moon lays a path, which I follow,
The music is alien, and the
Swim pleasant with intoxication.
...

From my window light is dark and dark is light,
She breathes and breathes again,
The soporific odours bleed.
My gaze returns, the curves.
...

My life is riderless,
Of prophesy it is bare.
Green meadows turn to bog,
The gallop succumbs to the mire.
...

They unstaple me,
Share the pain, though
They do not feel it.
Other parts are sheer jet black,
...

Here come the butchers,
Doing their rounds,
Checking this and that.
Is there enough skin in the freezer?
...

Soft limpid tears,
Subtle beyond imagination,
No shield could withstand them.
...

She is pale - now.
Each breath, a strain.
Her cave is hidden,
Dark and secret.
...